The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny FanFic
by Non-Canon Fodder
Summary: Some chemistry just cannot be denied. Sheldon and Penny must make a choice. Rated M for Adult Content. Warning, contains adult language, scenes of a sexual nature and some angst. Author's note: Thank you so very much for your reviews, your kind and encouraging words are my payment. Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from any part of The Big Bang Theory and its characters.
1. Chapter I : Ill Wind From Texas

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, a Shenny FanFic**

**Chapter I : Ill Wind From Texas**

Her calves burned as she reached the summit of the fourth floor. It had been manic at the restaurant tonight, so busy that she'd missed her break and had been on her feet all evening. Passing 4A and crossing the hall, she wondered if she should check up on Sheldon. She'd promised Leonard she would keep an eye on him but just couldn't cope with his jibber-jabber right now; she was exhausted. Besides, with Sheldon, no news was good news, and she'd not had a text or call from him or Raj, who'd had the dubious pleasure of driving him home today. Right now, when she was dead on her feet, pandering to the needs of this man-child was the last thing she wanted to do. She turned the key in her lock without a backward glance.

Collapsing on the sofa, she kicked off her shoes. On release, her feet throbbed and ached and, while she flexed her toes for some relief, from force of habit, she grabbed the remote on the coffee table. She clicked the TV on and idly flicked through, navigating a hundred channels of crap, unable to find anything satisfactory.

It was on nights like these that she missed Leonard the most. Amy and Bernie were away at some convention that she couldn't remember the name of, so she couldn't ring them. She cursed herself for not keeping up with her old friends and, realizing there was no one in her phone that she was close enough to call at this time of night, just for a chat, a wave of loneliness hit her, misting her eyes.

She shook the self-pity off before it took root and rose from the sofa, switching the TV off at the box, rather than put on standby. Oh God, after nearly 4 months of intensive Sheldon, he was beginning to rub off on her. However, the thought of him reminded her that she still had some bath bombs left from his ridiculously excessive Christmas gifts a few years back and, coupled with the half bottle of wine in the fridge, this evening could be rescued yet.

She splashed wine to the edge of the glass and carried it to the bathroom. As the bath filled she rooted around in the cabinet, finally unearthing the bath bombs, along with the "chew toy" Sheldon had found when he rearranged her wardrobe. She turned the base to check the batteries were not damaged when she had washed it off last week. Despite lying forgotten for so long it still vibrated merrily, and it had certainly come in useful over the last few months. Recalling its rediscovery, she could smile now without blushing. Her friends had been diplomatic enough not to rib her about it, finding more to laugh at in Sheldon's naivety. She shook her head at the memory, for a genius, he could certainly be obtuse.

Obtuse, now there was a word; not a word she'd have used before dating Leonard. The thought gave her a sudden pang of longing for him. She stilled the buzzing and popped the vibrator back in the cabinet. Leonard was due back in a fortnight; she could wait for the real thing.

Tightening her ponytail higher on her head, she dropped her uniform and underwear onto the bathroom floor and stepped into the bath as the fizzing of the bombs turned the water pink around her, caressing her aching feet. She sat down in the water and reached for the wine. This time, in just 2 weeks, Leonard would be here with her. She felt a little thrill at the thought and wondered if she had enough in the bank for a trip to the lingerie store beforehand. Leonard had seen her in everything in her nightie drawer and it would be nice to surprise him. Mind you, after four months, she figured he'd be drooling if she wore a sackcloth.

Or would he? Something Sheldon said after calling Leonard last night came back to nag at her. She hadn't been picturing Leonard 'engaged in drunken coitus with another woman' but, after that phone call with him, it certainly did seem that she was missing him a hell of a lot more than he was missing her. He was having, what was it he said, the "best time of my life", without her. She took a another gulp of her wine and blinked away the tears that were starting to pool in her eyes. Screw you Sheldon, she thought. The man simply had no filter and just said anything and everything that popped into his head, too arrogant to consider whether others wanted to hear it or not. Then she reprimanded herself, after all, deep down she knew she was being unfair; it wasn't as if Sheldon could help it. She had known him a long time now and knew, full well, that he would do anything for her. In truth, she truly loved him for that, but why did he have to be so fucking annoying? She suddenly realized with a jolt, Dr Sheldon Cooper was actually her best friend. She laughed at the irony and decided to keep this particular epiphany to herself, this was not a revelation to share with Amy or Bernie, and certainly not Leonard.

Her phone rang in the living room, no doubt Sheldon needing some trivial shit. She ignored it, drained her wineglass and sank down deeper in the bath so her shoulders were immerged. It rang off as her answer-phone kicked in.

Immediately, it rang again. For fucks sake, did he even have to ruin her fucking bath? Fuck him! She ignored it again, and it rang until the answer-phone kicked in once more.

She waited for the knocks on the door; they'd be next.

No knocks, but the phone again, coupled now with her skype chiming on her laptop. Okay, this was persistent, not something minor; her mind immediately sprang to Leonard, panic rising; had there been an accident?

She hauled herself out of the bath, soaking the bathmat and abandoned clothes. Grabbing the towel off the rail and wrapping it around herself, she dripped to the living room, a trail of wet footprints marking her path. She was too late to catch the phone but flipped the laptop to see Amy's name and fumbled in her rush to answer her, slipping on the screen with wet hands.

Amy's expression did little to ease the weight of anxiety in her chest. She was tear-stained and distraught, her face relaxing just a fraction as Penny came into view.

A relieved "You are there!" left her lips, almost as a sigh.

"Amy, what's happened?" Penny's heart hammered as an unwanted vision of Leonard's drowned corpse crept into her imagination.

"It's Sheldon," the corpse changed form in her mind and she stifled a sob as she gripped the coffee table. Amy swallowed, rubbed the tears from her eyes and continued, "His MeeMaw died."

A flood of relief washed over her. Not Sheldon; but his MeeMaw! She found she could breathe again as Amy continued in staggered sentences.

"His Mother rang me. She died this afternoon. She rang Sheldon to tell him and is really worried about how he reacted. Now she can't get hold of him and can't fly to California as Missy's a mess too, and only just in her third trimester, so Mary's worried about the baby. I'm booked on the red-eye and will be back about 7am."

Fresh tears welled as she continued. "Penny, I've been trying to contact him too, and he's not answering me either. I'm frightened. Please can you check on him?" Her voice broke on her final plea and Penny stammered back into life.

"Of course!" She grappled with her towel and, with it securely wrapped, picked the laptop up, collecting the keys from the bowl as she exited, carrying Amy over to 4A.

It seemed rude to enter without knocking, so she rapped on the door and called his name. She waited a beat before looking down at Amy on the screen. Amy gave her a tight little smile of encouragement as a thank you but didn't say a word.

She knocked again and called out "Sheldon, it's Penny, are you alright?" It was a stupid question, she knew that, but what else could she say? There was still no reply.

Struggling not to drop the laptop, she turned the key in the door and pushed her way into the darkness of the apartment.

It was still and eerie in 4A, illuminated only by the moonlight that streamed through the window. "Sheldon?" she called again, fear starting to creep into her voice.

Still nothing.

"Try his bedroom." Amy's voice made her jump in the silence.

She padded to his bedroom door, considered knocking, but instead pushed the handle down and opened it; she'd never noticed how it creaked before now.

Sheldon was sat on the left hand side of the bed facing the wall. He was as still as a statue and the moonlight gave his pale skin a blue hue that made him seem otherworldly. He did not turn to look in her direction.

"Sheldon, I've brought Amy, we're really worried about you." Her voice sounded small and rather tremulous. He still did not move. She looked down at Amy, desperate for help.

"He's in shock, put me down next to him and make some strong tea, lots of sugar."

She obeyed, grateful for her friend's calm demeanor, approaching the bed cautiously so as not to startle him and laying down the laptop before backing away out of his room.

Flicking the light switch for the living room, she filled the kettle and switched it on to boil before rushing back to her apartment to grab her pajamas, her skin still slightly damp as she pulled them on. She returned in time to hear the kettle rumble and click off.

Placing a teabag in his mug, her hands shook a little as she poured the water in. Amy's voice drifted out from his bedroom and she tried not to eavesdrop, the clanking of the spoon in the cup effectively masking the words. She added the sugar with a fresh spoon; Sheldon hated brown tea spots in the sugar bowl, before grabbing the milk carton from the fridge and putting just a splash in. When she placed it back she realized that she had still not heard Sheldon speak.

Standing in the doorway to his room she watched as Amy continued to speak, but if he heard her, he did not respond. He remained unmoved, just as she had left him, staring blankly at the wall.

She tiptoed past and placed the mug next to him on the coaster on his bedside cabinet.

"Penny?" Once again, Amy's voice made her jump and she turned, Sheldon's ghostly profile slightly obscuring her friend's face on the screen.

"I need to leave to catch my flight, I've told Sheldon that I've booked flights for him and myself to Texas tomorrow afternoon. Can you help him pack, enough for a few days at least?" Penny nodded her agreement.

"Thank you, also, I know it's an imposition, but can I ask you to stay with him till I arrive in the morning?"

"Yes. Yes, of course, I will." It hadn't occurred to her to leave him and she felt slightly insulted that Amy felt she even had to ask this. After all, Sheldon had been her friend long before Amy was around, what the hell sort of person did she think she was? She bristled slightly, then felt wave of guilt for being so stupidly sensitive and petty when her best friend sat frozen in grief next her.

"I'll say goodnight now Sheldon," Amy addressed him, "and I'll be there as soon as I can." Still nothing, not a flicker to indicate he'd even heard her. Amy's face was a mask of pain as she met Penny's eyes.

"Thank you Penny" she smiled with a small, sad smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'll see you in the morning," and with that she was gone.

The silence hung heavy in the room. She tried to speak but had no words. Instead, she sat down next to him on his bed and gently pushed the lid of the laptop down, all animosity towards her friend now forgotten, wishing her face was still on the screen and she was not alone, helpless, wondering what on earth to do next.


	2. Chapter II : Sodium Chloride Burn

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny FanFic**

**Chapter II : Sodium Chloride Burn**

She sat. She sat and she stared. If he was aware of her presence, he did not show it. His expression impassive and blank, he remained immobile staring ahead, the occasional blink the only sign of life.

Sitting in the dark in the silence, the distinct ticking of his alarm clock was magnified, muffled only by the swish of the occasional car passing outside the window. She knew she should act; do something, anything, but was at a loss as to what exactly. Anyone else she would have hugged and comforted, but she knew how he hated to be touched. She fought her nature and her hand twitched at her side, instinctively trying to reach out to him. She opened her mouth to offer words of comfort but none came. What words did she have to take away his pain? His MeeMaw, she knew, was the one person in the world he revered, a matchless, faultless paragon of goodness and grace.

How long she dithered, she was unsure, but with each tick of the clock her restlessness grew till it bubbled inside of her and the oppressive stillness forced her voice.

"Sheldon?" She sounded shrill and unnatural in the dead of the room.

Nothing, no movement. She waited. Her heart was starting to race, but she took a breath, steadied herself and tried again.

"Sheldon?"

A blink, but no change. It was unbearable; the adrenaline pushed her to her feet. She balled her hands into fists and crossed her arms, fighting the urge to touch him, to force a response. Amy's words rode into her head like the cavalry and, with relief, she went with them.

"Sheldon, I'm going to pack your things like Amy said. Is that okay?" She bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, eager to move, to be busy.

Still no response, but now she had purpose, now she could turn away and be of use, appease her restless bones.

She faced his chest of drawers, trying desperately to get her mind in order, to compile a list. What had Amy said? How many days? It was a blur.

She opened the top drawer to a row of neatly folded underpants and vests, all sitting uniformly, blindingly white even in the darkness. They seemed to sum him up so perfectly that she felt a wave of emotion rise and her eyes prickled. The order, the neatness, the pure Sheldoness of this drawer hammered home the contrasting vortex of mess and turmoil that must be churning in his head right now. She found she couldn't touch them. To do so seemed like a violation of his person. She remembered with shame laughing with Amy when she sneaked a peek in this very drawer. How preposterous it had seemed that Sheldon was so anal about his private things. Now she felt hollow and exploitive. She gripped the wood of the drawer and tried to dull her feelings but they rose nevertheless till the tears overflowed and a sob escaped her. She tried to swallow her emotion back but only succeeded in gasping as she trembled, her knuckles gripping white as wet tears spotted the immaculate contents within.

"Why are you crying?"

His voice, robotic and inflectionless made her start. She tried desperately to compose herself. Keeping her back to him, she frantically wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand before answering.

"I'm just so sorry Sheldon."

She turned to face him, supporting her back against the open drawer. He had turned full circle, his body twisted on the bed, bearing a blank expression as he considered her answer.

"Why are you sorry, you never met MeeMaw?" There was no change in his matter of fact countenance and the relief she'd felt that he was talking again started to ebb away.

"I'm sorry for you." She whispered in a small voice.

His face twitched slightly as he turned away from her, back to facing the wall.

"Save your pity for someone who deserves it Penny." He spat. "I'm a despicable person!"

"What?" She floundered in her confusion. "No! Why would you say that?"

She stumbled over to him, fresh tears stinging, stopping in front to face him. He refused to look at her, staring now at a different spot on the wall. She couldn't stop herself; she grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

The shock of her touch jolted him and he faced her with surprised eyes.

"You're not despicable Sheldon, why do you think that?"

He swallowed before beginning, speaking in dull, expressionless tones, unable to meet her eye.

"When my Mother called, do you know what my first thought was Penny?"

She shook her head, removed her hands from his shoulders and resumed her position next to him on the bed. He turned his head in her direction to continue.

"I didn't think of MeeMaw. I didn't feel sad for her. Penny, I thought only of myself, of what I had lost with her death. I felt sad for me!"

His face began to crumple and twitch and his eyes shone with the moisture that began to well there. He was gripping the bed cover, his arms rigid at his sides. She reached for his hand, enclosed his fist with hers and squeezed gently.

"I didn't deserve for her to love me like she did. I'm selfish, egotistic and arrogant but she refused to see it. I can't find it in me to think of her. I can only mourn that no one will ever love me the same. I am a despicable person Penny."

He started to hyperventilate slightly, his mouth twitching and nostrils flaring.

"No, that's not true!" She fought to contain the wail that she felt rising in her chest.

"Sheldon, your MeeMaw was quite a lady, and no fool! She saw you for who you are, that's all, and that's why she loved you. That's why we love you; me, Leonard and Amy. We love you too Sheldon!"

He turned, incredulous, as he spat "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Of course we love you Sheldon!" She cried as hot tears burned her face. "Why the fuck do you think we stick around? You drive us all fucking crazy but, news flash, we're all still here aren't we? Yes, you are arrogant, selfish and egotistical, you're all those things, but you're also so much more! We're still here because you're worth loving. MeeMaw was right to love you as she did, don't you dare think otherwise."

He absorbed the information in silence, quavering slightly at first, then meeting her eyes again. She met his gaze, watching him process her words, the confusion etched in his expression.

Suddenly he became very still, his eyes widened and, in a low voice, a murmur filled with more sorrow than she could bear, he confessed.

"Penny, I can't remember her face!"

Then he folded, broken, as he shifted his hands from the bed, and gripped his knees, rocking a little as his body began to tremble.

The tears began to flow as his face screwed into a tormented grimace and he gasped huge stuttering gulps of air as tremors wracked his body. A low moan escaped him. A desolating cry of agony and loss that ripped through her body, releasing the heartache she'd suppressed till now.

She surrendered to her instincts with a sob and enclasped him as he shook, wrapping him tightly in her arms, the heat of his undulating body prickling her bare skin through his T-shirts. He clung back tightly, suffocating in his desperate need, shaking as his breath came in staggered cries, the timbre of his wails reverberating through her till she was unsure from whom they originated.

She had no words of comfort for him. No coherent thought. Simply intrinsic actions as she stroked his hair, peppering chaste kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his neck, the salt from their mingled tears burning her lips. Time was lost to her, there was just the moment, no consciousness till his weeping subsided and only the sound of their breathing remained. They clung together, chests rising and falling in synch, foreheads pressed together; his stuttering breath hot on her mouth.

She looked through teary eyes into his. Blue laced with watery grief, but there was something else; something primal and ancient that glistened there. Something that echoed in her body; a restless yearning that invaded her senses, usurping rational thought, swapping right and wrong, and should and should not. Something that anesthetized the pain as they pressed their mouths together in a salty, wet embrace that sent an electric vibe to her core. That made her pulse and ache for him as the taste of his kiss removed the obstacles and changed the rules of who can and cannot be loved.

They fell entwined across the bed, mouths enmeshed, his weight heavy on her as she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. He gripped her shoulders, a groan leaving him as their bodies aligned, his arousal meeting hers, making her shudder and cry out in anticipation. His kiss was fevered and rough in his inexperience as their teeth clashed. She ran her tongue on the smooth surface and he bit in his excitement, crushing his mouth into hers, the taste of him unknown and yet so familiar. She ran her hands down his back, grasping his buttocks and drawing him down, as she pushed up against him. He ground back against her, his hardness teasing her core, pulling an animalistic moan from her throat that echoed against his mouth as the pressure built inside her, a cathartic sensuality whirling within, screaming for release.

The sound ignited a frenzy in him and, releasing her shoulders, he grappled with his button and zipper, before pulling his trousers and underwear down to free himself. He was pressed too hard against her to remove her pajama shorts but they were loose so she pulled them to the side, and in his haste to be inside her, he slipped upward in her wetness, rubbing the nub of her and she was close, so close, as the thrill pooled in her lions.

He whimpered in frustration and thrust again, lower this time and she gasped as he entered her. Wrapping her legs around him, allowing him deeper inside, the sensation as he filled her intensified her greed till she was on the cusp. Gripping him tightly, meeting his thrusts, her body trembled as his pelvic bone made contact, once, twice and then, on the third, the pressure exploded as she was overtaken by a shuddering rush of ecstasy. She cried out in a guttural groan of pleasure as her body uncoiled in blissful ripples.

Her cries were met as he quaked and trembled atop her. His grip on her arms tightened, digging into her flesh as he pulsated inside her, shaking as a bestial moan escaped him. He collapsed upon her, his breath staggered and rasping, the heat bristling between their bodies as the aftershocks of her orgasm twitched against him.

They lay conjoined as he softened inside of her, their faces close, bodies clammy as they caught their breath. They spoke no words; to speak would break the spell that was upon them. Words would make them own their actions and they were not ready, not yet.

It was simple, brutal biology that roused her from her trance. The trickling of his fluid that brought her tumbling back to reality. She pulled her shorts back, pushing the fabric in between her legs to catch the flow before it sullied his sheets. Her movements awakened him and she felt him fumble and heard the snap of elastic as he adjusted his underwear.

She struggled to find words to convey the maelstrom in her head but could not string a sentence together. Instead she lay facing him, her face itching from the salt of their tears as she searched his bloodshot eyes for the answer, for some clue to what had just happened.

No words came.


	3. Chapter III : Concupiscence Compunction

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter III : Concupiscence Compunction**

The trill of the phone jolted her into consciousness with a start. How long she had dozed she couldn't calculate. She only knew that weak sunlight beamed through the window, that it was morning. Sheldon's eyes flickered next to her as he awoke. He lay unmoved, his face close, as he opened dark shadowed eyes to meet hers.

"I'll get it!" `They were the first words she'd spoken since.

She rolled over and off the bed, shuffling ungainly to the phone in the living room, her thighs tacky, rubbing uncomfortably as they stuck together. She crossed her legs as she answered. "Hello."

"Penny? I've landed. I'm just waiting for my bags." Amy's anxious voice washed a wave of guilt through her as she asked. "How is he?"

She panicked, stammering as she answered honestly. "I don't know!" It was the truth; she really had no idea.

"Oh!" There was a pause as Amy digested the information. "Is he talking?"

"He was." There was a too long pause as she tried to collect her thoughts. "But now I don't know!"

"Is that Amy?" Sheldon stood in the doorway of his bedroom, disheveled and black-eyed.

She nodded and held the receiver to him as he crossed the room, feeling uncharacteristically shy as he neared, jumping when their hands brushed. He locked eyes with her as he spoke. "Amy?"

She could hear the relief in the tinny voice on the phone, even if the words were indistinct. His face was impassive as he replied "Thank you" and "Yes" in monotones, but he never looked away from her, studying her as if seeing her for the first time.

She felt exposed, standing mute under his scrutiny, small and foolish in her cold, wet shorts. A dribble of semen threatened to run down her leg, she'd die of shame if that happened.

"Okay." He answered Amy and then clicked off the phone, replacing it in its cradle, breaking their gaze for just the briefest moment, before locking her there again in silence, till it became unbearable. She spoke up.

"Sheldon, I need to go get cleaned up."

He nodded agreement. "You look terrible!" he added matter of factly.

It was such a blunt thing to say, so very him, that she couldn't help but laugh, despite the gravity of the situation.

"Pot. Kettle. Black." She answered wryly, and for a moment, the briefest of smiles played on his lips.

"I need to shower. Amy's on her way." He stated flatly and with that, he turned and walked away towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, leaving her alone, standing awkwardly as if waiting, but for what she knew not.

She shook herself out of her trance and began her uncomfortable, sticky progress across the hall to her apartment, realizing with horror that she'd left both doors unlocked last night.

She headed straight for the bathroom, the perfume of her bath still hanging in the air though the bombs had sunk and separated leaving a layer of powder in the dank water. She pulled the plug and stripped off her soiled pajamas, adding them to the pile of laundry on the floor, then sat on the toilet to pee and clean-up, as the cold, pink bath water spiraled away. She washed her hands as the flush gurgled, then tugged the curtain over the shower before switching it on.

The shower patterned the powder by her feet as she tucked the stray tendrils of hair back into her ponytail. Hot water hit her face, washing away the old tears, fresh ones now stinging as her predicament sank in. She was really too fucking stupid for words. Right now Amy was on her way and she had to face her. She took a deep breath of steamy air and tried to calm herself. She had to keep it together, for Sheldon, and for Amy; she thanked God Leonard was 1,000s of miles away in the middle of the ocean.

She squeezed shower gel on her wash mitt and scrubbed herself. Noting the red finger marks on her upper arms and, as she washed between her legs, a bruise beginning to form on the inside of her thigh, a reminder of his jutting hipbones and feral lust, she was shocked by the twinge of desire that accompanied this recollection.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" she scolded out loud, her voice reflecting accusingly off the tiles. Wrenching the dial of her shower left, she punished her wantonness with an icy blast that stripped the bubbles away. Then, detaching the showerhead, she rinsed between her legs, the cold water soothing the telltale burn of fresh intercourse that lingered.

Stepping out, she shivered on the bath mat, searching for the towel. The sight of her soiled pajamas jogged her memory and heading to her chest of drawers, she picked the damp towel from the floor and wrapped it round herself.

A second memory jolted and she hurried to her bedside drawer and popped a birth control pill out of the blister pack. She swallowed it with a gulp from the beaker of stale water, there since God knows when, before returning to the bathroom to squeeze toothpaste on her toothbrush, the minty sting overriding the metallic tang on her tongue where he'd bitten. Finally, scooping up the clothes on the floor, she dropped them into her laundry basket, hiding the evidence. What if Amy saw those shorts?

She frisked herself with the towel as she selected a t-shirt; the finger-marks necessitated long sleeves. The bruise ruled out shorts, so she pulled out yoga pants, then selected comfortable undies before dropping the towel back on the floor.

When dressed she made her way back to 4A.

The apartment felt different somehow, almost as if looking at it in a mirror or an unusual angle. Everything was the same, but everything was different; an "oxymoron", she heard the word in Leonard's voice, remembered him using it about something she'd said. Recalling how furious she'd been, thinking he'd called her some sort of super-idiot. Then, how much he'd laughed before explaining. She felt hollow in her stomach. The guilt churning her insides as she thought of him. How the hell was she going to face him?

The sound of the shower pattered from behind the closed bathroom door. He'd been in there a long time. After their tryst, knowing Sheldon, he was probably scrubbing his skin raw or dousing himself in bleach. She tapped on the door and called through.

"Sheldon, I'm back."

"Okay." His voice sounded strangled and forced. She could hear the tears in it and felt herself well up again.

She looked at the clock, nearly 7am. Amy was never late, she had to keep it together. Once she'd faced Amy, she would return to her apartment and melt down, but right now, she had to be strong.

The restlessness moved her from place to place in the apartment. Finally she settled in the kitchen where she filled the kettle and set out 2 mugs, and a paper cup "to go" for herself. She ran how the conversation would go in her head. What questions would Amy ask her; what she'd reply. The shower switched off. Never mind Amy, what on earth was she going to say to Sheldon? She unsuccessfully tried one of the mind relaxation techniques from her acting class. She gave up in frustration and busied herself finishing the tea.

Amy didn't knock. Even though she'd been expecting her, her sudden appearance as the door opened made her jump back, startled, guilty, as if caught in the act.

"You look terrible!" echoed Amy as she approached the breakfast counter.

Her resolve crumbled instantly and she crumpled, tears streaming, only able to say "Oh Amy!' as she broke.

Amy hugged her tightly, shushing and patting her back till the guilt was unbearable.

"Poor you. Has it been awful?" She sounded close to tears herself.

She could only squeeze out an "Uh huh!" as she wiped her nose on her sleeve behind her back.

Amy broke away, located the kitchen roll and handed her a wad. Rubbing the top of her arms as she watched her wipe her face, she adopted a practical tone. "Is he in the bedroom?"

She shook her head, and managed to squeak "The shower".

With a parting pat to her arms, Amy made her way to the bathroom door and called "Sheldon, I'm here!"

The door opened instantly, he was fully dressed. Had he been hiding in there, unable to face her? She felt like she was going to vomit.

Amy held her arms out and he walked stiffly into her embrace. To her horror, a pang of jealously dropped like a dead weight in her stomach. What the actual fuck! What was happening? She floundered in her confusion.

"I'm so sorry Sheldon!" Amy mumbled into his chest.

He held her cautiously; his eyes traveled to Penny over Amy's head as he answered with a simple "Thank you".

She'd never felt more out of place. She shouldn't be here encroaching on this personal moment between them. She grabbed her tea.

"Amy, Sheldon, I'm sorry but I have to go. I've got an evening shift so I'm going to grab some sleep." She swallowed before continuing. "Sheldon, I'm so desperately sorry about your MeeMaw."

He nodded thank you and she started for the door, turning as she opened it.

"Have a safe journey okay." She tried to rein in the tears that we're threatening again, fighting the green-eyed monster that crawled on her skin.

"I'll call you from Texas tonight." Amy promised.

"Okay, thanks Amy."

She pulled the door to, inhaled, and made her way to 4B, hands shaking as she opened the door, bile rising as her stomach churned. She made it to the kitchen sink just in time, vomiting repeatedly, choking and retching, till she remained dry heaving, clinging to the sink.

She splashed her face from the kitchen tap. Made it to the sofa and collapsed, staring at the ceiling, holding her head as it thumped.

She should take painkillers but found the throb of her headache a welcome distraction. Since when was she jealous of Amy? Since you fucked her boyfriend you stupid girl! She squeezed her head, amplifying the pain, deadening her thoughts!

Closing her eyes, she tried to stop her mind racing through the possibilies. Sheldon was notorious for being unable to keep a secret, pathologically unable to lie. She was fucked, in every connotation of the word. She would lose Leonard; how could he forgive this? She would lose Amy. With horror she realized Sheldon would lose everything. Deep down, she guiltily knew that she'd bounce back, but he wouldn't. He was more fucked.

What if Sheldon wanted her? The thought stopped her in her tracks. How did she feel about that? What exactly did she feel for Sheldon?

Yes, she loved him, she knew that much. But how did she love him? The idea of her and Sheldon as a couple was preposterous. For the greater percentage of the time spent with Sheldon, she wanted to kill him; in fact, there'd been a few close calls these last few months without Leonard there as a buffer. They had nothing in common, not that she and Leonard had much, in truth nothing at all really, except for the sex.

The sex! She groaned in excruciation. The sex! Sex, as basic, naïve and clumsy as it was possible to be, and yet it had turned her into some sort of lust crazed harlot. She'd had good sex before, some of it with Leonard, but had never before experienced the need she'd felt with Sheldon, not with anyone, ever! Some sort of alchemy had happened that she couldn't explain, and it was more than the pure wrongness of it. She had done plenty wrong before!

However, as far as her historic wrongness went, this ranked first place. Now she had to suffer the unbearable agony of the wait. How long till hers and Sheldon's world came crashing down? If only she'd managed to get it together enough to speak to him before Amy arrived. At least then she'd know what to expect, at least she'd be spared the gnawing fear in her gut. Suddenly she realized, Sheldon was having to deal with all this on top of grieving for his beloved MeeMaw. The shame hit her a low blow. Whatever she suffered, Sheldon suffered manifold. She was selfishness personified. She was, to borrow a word, despicable.

She let the tears take her. The regret and shame poured out as she buried her face in the sofa cushions and wept till exhaustion took hold.

She was woken by the knocks. The knocks and her name, three times. Shaking off the sleep, she stumbled to the door disorientated.

There he stood with her laptop in his hands, his windcheater fastened, dressed to leave for Texas with Amy waiting at the top of the stairs, watching him intently.

She managed to squeeze out a strained "Hello Sheldon."

"You left your laptop and keys." He said blankly and he proffered the laptop toward her stiffly.

"Oh! Thank you." She reached to take them and met his eyes as he stared at her like a rabbit in the headlights. She took the weight of the laptop but he didn't release his hold, remaining transfixed, his face starting to twitch as the pause stretched to an awkward length. Amy coughed purposely from behind him and he jumped a little before stating in a chipped weightless voice.

"Penny, I'd like to thank you for staying with me last night. It was a kind thing to do and I appreciate it." A vein at the side of his head throbbed as he parroted the obviously coached words. Amy smiled and gave small nod behind him.

She had a sudden flash of brilliance.

"Don't mention it." She stared purposefully into his eyes. "Literally, don't mention it."

His faced flickered and she saw with relief that the message had hit home. He released the laptop, then, fumbling in his pocket, pulled out her keys as she extended her hand. At his touch she flinched with an electric jolt that twisted her stomach, and saw the movement reflected in him. Unaware behind him, Amy checked her watch.

"Sheldon, we need to go." Amy summoned him as she dipped at the knees to pick up his suitcase.

"Okay, bye then." He mumbled.

Tearing his eyes from hers, he turned stiffly and walked past Amy, disappearing from view down the stairwell.

"Thank you Penny, you're a star!" Amy's gratitude sent a fresh wave of guilt through her.

Amy gave a small, sad, departing wave as she turned to follow him.

She listened till their footsteps were no longer audible, then shut the door.


	4. Chapter IV : The Whiteboard Write-off

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter IV : The Whiteboard Write-off**

She rode the next three days on raw energy alone. Jumping when her Skype or phone sounded, utilizing her all her acting skills with Amy and Leonard when they called; presenting bright and breezy Penny, supportive, sympathetic and solid. Each conversation a paradox of elated relief, another day dodging the bullet, and disappointment; Sheldon hadn't called.

Not that she'd know what to say to him if he did. Amy's updates were rather grim. He was taking MeeMaw's death hard and even his Mother was unable to reach him as he withdrew, cosseting his grief, not willing to relinquish it. Grief was all he had left of her.

But it hurt. It hurt that he didn't answer her calls or texts, and after the second day she stopped trying.

She got through the days on autopilot, her tips reflecting her inattention despite requesting extra shifts. It was easier when she was busy, less time to think and for the dread to creep into her bones. She worked till she was exhausted, so she could fall into bed without mulling over her fate and ignore the sword of Damocles hanging over her head. Ancient Greece again; oh how she hated Ancient fucking Greece!

On the plus side she dropped 2lbs, surviving on fresh air, even wine tasted bitter. Nothing like gut wrenching guilt and shame to kick-start your regime.

On the Wednesday evening, Amy's distinctive knock came as no surprise. She'd spotted her car as she parked up and had dithered outside 4A before chickening out and heading straight to her own apartment. Immediately making a beeline for the wine, pouring with jittery hands, only to tip it away again as it stung her throat like vinegar.

Knowing they were both on the other side of the hallway was like slow torture. She tried to sit and occupy herself with the TV but, after half an hour, realized she had no idea what had just been on and took herself off to change out of her uniform and shower. She returned to the sofa, sitting in her pajamas, awaiting judgment.

"Hey Bestie." She noted with relief that Amy looked very pleased to see her.

"Ames, come in!" Did her voice sound too perky? Too fake? If it did, thankfully, Amy seemed not to notice.

"Wine?" She offered.

"Please!" Amy flopped onto her sofa with a sigh as she headed for the fridge.

"This one's a bit funky, it's been open a couple of days." She apologized.

"And there's some left?" Amy queried in surprise.

"Like I said, it tastes nasty!" She sloshed Amy a glass, the smell of it churning her stomach.

"If it's wet and alcoholic, then it'll do!" Amy reached for the glass like a woman drowning would a lifebuoy.

"Tough time?" She didn't need to ask, Amy looked far from her usual collected self.

"Tough doesn't even begin to cover it!" Amy gulped a large mouthful, looked at Penny in confusion before adding, "It's fine?"

She shrugged and sat down next to her, close up Amy looked dreadful, like she hadn't slept in days.

"So, how was Texas?" she asked.

"Well, the mourning aside, Sheldon's family are delightful. Very welcoming. In fact, a little too over attentive at times. I have a feeling some of the more distant relatives turned up just to gawp, kept asking me if I was really Sheldon's girlfriend!" She shook her head smiling before continuing.

"Mary's been lovely. She's very worried about Sheldon though. We all are." The smile faded as her eyes misted with sadness.

"How's he been?" She chewed her lip as Amy collected her thoughts.

"Closed, Penny. Absent even." Amy's lip began to wobble as she added "I can't reach him!" and a tear streamed down her cheek.

"Oh Ames!" She shuffled nearer and wrapped her arms around her, feeling her own eyes moisten as she murmured, "I'm sorry, so sorry!" The guilt tore into her.

Amy gave a sad half laugh, half cry. "It's not me mourning Penny!" But relaxed into the hug gratefully, swaying for a few beats before she sat back.

"When's the funeral?" She asked as Amy lifted her glass to her lips again.

Amy swallowed before answering. "Saturday morning. We fly up again Friday evening. Sheldon wants to go back to work tomorrow, says there's no point him being home. I kind of agree to be honest. Sitting in silence, doing nothing, isn't helping him any."

"So, he's not talking about it at all?" She felt a fresh stab of guilt at the initial relief this thought provoked.

"Just to relay the bare essentials. If I try to speak about MeeMaw he clams up and blanks me, stares into space!" Amy gave a sigh and wiped fresh tears, watching as she scrambled around to find the box of tissues she knew she had amongst the crap on her coffee table.

"Here." She plucked a couple from the box and Amy took them gratefully.

"Oh Penny, I know this'll sound shitty but I thought this might bring us closer!" Amy started to sob and sniff, her shoulders shaking.

"Oh Amy" She gripped her friend's knee and squeezed, feeling too helpless to comfort her, watching as she cried it out.

Amy took two deep stuttering breaths before regaining her composure, placing her hand on Penny's and squeezing back.

"Sometimes it just seems so hopeless Penny; me and Sheldon." She dabbed at her eyes with the screwed up tissues.

She squeezed again on Amy's knee, not trusting herself to speak, not knowing what to say.

"I should get going." Amy drained the last of the wine and then rose. "Thanks for listening."

She drew her into another hug; she looked so dejected and beaten that her heart broke for her.

"Any time Amy, you know that." Regret gnawed at her gut, leaving her hollow.

She stood in her doorway staring at 4A for some time after Amy had disappeared from view down the stairs. Finally, drawing the courage from where she did not know, she crossed the hallway, rapped on the door and entered.

He was standing in front of his whiteboard, attempting to block the content from view with his body, looking round with wild eyes at her.

"Oh it's you!" He stepped back from the board, relaxing his arms at the side. "You can see this. It concerns you."

"It does?" She approached the indecipherable squiggles in confusion. "What is it?"

"A flow chart depicting our current predicament Penny." He looked at her in exasperation, as if it could not have been more obvious.

"Oh!" She looked again; she couldn't make head nor tail of it. "Is it written in code?"

"Those are abbreviations!" His knuckles whitened on the marker pen.

"Okay." She looked again. She stood and stared till the boxes drawn on the whiteboard became a scrambled blur. She could feel his eyes on her, hear his breathing, there was a faint buzz in her ears, as she willed herself to understand.

"I give up, what does it mean Sheldon!" She pleaded.

He grabbed the board rubber and erased the left and right hand side of the chart, leaving a trail of boxes down the middle of the board. Turning to face her, a curious expression, sadness mixed with annoyance, on his face.

"Do you see it now?" He struggled to control his voice.

"No!" She could feel tears of frustration burning behind her eyes and hugged herself, trying to keep control.

"Sheldon, please, just tell me what it means."

"This is a Consequentialism based Algorithm. This," he indicated to the middle section with his pen "is the best outcome from an Utilitarianist viewpoint."

"In English please Sheldon!" She could feel her temper rising.

He took a staggered, steadying breath. "This", he tapped the board with the pen, "is the path of least resistance."

"It is?" She questioned in confusion. "How exactly?"

He replaced the lid on the pen and popped it in the tray at the bottom of the board.

"This scenario Penny, is where you and I do not mention what happened between us, alleviating the damage, not only to ourselves, but to Leonard and Amy as well." His voice tremored as he spoke.

"You needed a fucking whiteboard to work that out?" Her rage burst forth in an uncontrollable burst.

He started and his eyes flashed wild again. "I needed to see it Penny, yes!" He retorted angrily.

She shook her head and sat wearily on the sofa, her head in her hands.

"And how are you going to manage that Sheldon, when you are incapable of keeping a secret?" She found she couldn't look at him.

"By adopting a non absolutist deontological precept." He determined.

"In English?" she hissed.

"I will accept that, in some cases, the consequences of the action of the lie told make lying the right thing to do." He stated resolutely.

"So, we forget it ever happened and return to normal?" she clarified.

"Forget?" He gave a wry laugh. " I understand even those without an eidetic memory never forget the loss of their virginity. I think you meant to say, we 'pretend' it never happened Penny, and work on maintaining homeostasis within our social group."

Fucking Homeostasis again! However, she nodded agreement, trying to ignore the odd sense of loss that tightened in her stomach.

A thought occurred to her suddenly.

"What did you rub out?" She looked up to meet his eyes as he stood frozen next to the board. He avoided her gaze, turned his back to her and proceeded to erase the rest of the flow chart.

"It doesn't matter, this is the path of least resistance. This is what works. This way, nobody loses." He muttered as the remainder of the chart disappeared beneath the rubber, his back to her, his hand shaking, rattling the board slightly. "As Spock says, 'It's logical. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'."

"Tell me Sheldon, what was either side?" she insisted.

He turned to face her, meeting her eyes. His face twitched uncomfortably and he fidgeted with the rubber in his hands.

"Hedonism." He stated quietly. Then a thought lit up his face.

"Actually, there is some good news in all of this." He proceeded to his desk drawer, removing an envelope and unfolding the contents.

He approached her with the paper extended to take and, for a moment, she thought with horror that he was pulling the same stupid shit he did with Amy, and giving her some ridiculous agreement to sign.

It was worse than that.

She looked at the paper; medical results of some sort.

"What's this?" she questioned in confusion.

"My blood pathology. I had a health screen in Texas. As you can see, I have no transmittable disease Penny. So, ipso facto, neither do you." He looked pleased, like he'd just told her she'd won the lottery.

"You thought I'd given you a fucking disease? Are you for real?" Her blood boiled and she screwed the letter up and flung it at him as he flinched back in shock, before rushing for the door, tears burning.

"Penny!" he called as she slammed his door, and rushed to hers, bulldozing it open and locking it behind her.

"Penny!" He called through her door, pushing it in vain. She leaned against it and the knocks vibrated nine times through her body as her name was called in increasingly desperate degrees.

"I know you're there, I can hear you breathing! Penny, it's imperative to maintain normality for this to work, and I require equilibrium to function normally." He pleaded.

"Fuck your equilibrium Sheldon!" she shouted through the door and she stumbled to her bedroom, blinded by tears, to fall face down on the bed, sobbing with raspy gasps of disappointment and hurt.

She cried till there were no tears left then lay still and silent looking out of the window, watching the plane lights in the night sky as they circled; planes full of people on their way somewhere, or coming home to those that loved them, the thought made her feel desolate, but strangely calm.

After what seemed like a long while, she heard his voice again at the door. Surprised he was still there, she felt a pang of compassion for him.

"I'm sorry Penny," His voice sounded lost and frightened.

She rose from the bed and approached the peephole only to see the door of 4A closing. She knew she should go and comfort him. Sheldon wasn't like other people, she didn't doubt for a minute that he truly had meant his news to be reassuring and felt a stab of regret as she pictured his confusion and panic when she'd exploded at him.

She picked up her phone to text him: 'We're okay.'

It pinged back immediately: 'Thank you. I'm sorry.'

She replied: 'Me too. Love you.'

Her hand wavered over the last phrase, unsure whether to send it. However, it was what she felt, so she went with it.

She stared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth for bed. The girl in the mirror was puffy and red-faced, not the same girl Leonard had left behind four months ago, but a sad shadow. She wondered what he would see when he returned, would he be able to tell the difference?

She took her self-pity to bed, lying beneath her quilt as she reviewed her situation. The feeling of loss she'd felt when Sheldon had made his proposition confused her. What had she wanted him to say? She agreed wholeheartedly that this was the best course of action, so why the disappointment? Was her ego really so fragile that she needed every man to be in love with her to make her feel worthwhile? Had she really expected Sheldon to declare his undying devotion, to plan to run away together and live happily ever after? She hadn't expected that; had she?

The knocks on the door made her jump. She checked her bedside clock. It was just past quarter to twelve, he'd wake the whole building up.

"Sheldon, it's nearly midnight!" She whispered, opening the door to find him in his pajamas, his face a ticking mess as he posed his question.

"Penny, do you remember the conversation I had with Stuart at this very door?' He was unable to look her in her face, staring at her feet with his fists clenched.

"What? Sheldon, are you crazy? It's late! Can't we talk about this tomorrow?" As she looked at him she regretted her words. He was obviously in the middle of some kind of crisis as he twitched nervously at her reply before looking up to meet her eyes.

"Do you remember it Penny, what I said?" His eyes implored her to remember.

"Was it something about comics?" She guessed.

"Yes. Batman! He was wrong. I stated that wrong is an absolute state!" He looked at her for a response, clenching and unclenching his hands as he waited. When none came, he prompted. "What do you think about that?"

"About Batman?" She asked in confusion, jumping as the twitch reached his neck, jerking his head as he looked down and away again.

"About wrong being an absolute state?" He was beginning to get agitated, his voice rising in tone.

"I don't know Sheldon!" She implored, starting to feel out of her depth.

"We've done something wrong Penny, and wrong is an absolute state. So, is doing it again more wrong, if wrong is already absolute?" He raised his eyes to meet hers as he stood quaking.

"Doing what again?" But she knew the answer before she had finished the sentence.

She felt a thrill rush through her, equal parts apprehension, excitement and desire. She stepped backwards into her apartment as he approached, eyes locked on her, his lips slightly parted as his mouth found hers.

The door to apartment 4B swung shut.


	5. Chapter V : Doing Wrong Right

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter V : Doing Wrong Right**

The tremble of his mouth on hers took her so much by surprise that she didn't have the wherewithal to reciprocate. She withdrew from the kiss and held him, the taste of his lips rousing the hunger in her as she breathed the scent of his skin, her lips brushing his neck as she spoke.

"Sheldon, are you sure you want this?"

He gripped her tightly, clinging as if for dear life, the thrum of his heart palpable against her, his voice shaky.

"I can't pretend to understand this Penny. I want to not want this, but it's a need. I can't explain why, this is beyond my experience of human interaction." The words spilled out in a rush as he quaked against her.

She soothed him, rocking him slightly, stroking the back of his neck, ruffling his hairline as the tips of her fingers tickled with a sensation that traveled down her spine to pool in her belly, unraveling within her and fogging her mind.

He shivered as she ran her fingers up his neck, along his jaw line to cup his face. Leaning back, her body tightened, tingling as she saw the desire reciprocated in his eyes.

He was right. The damage was done. The repercussions would be no different whether they fucked once, twice or a thousand times. The revelation released an exhilarating rush of abandonment within her. Making her feel more alive than she could ever remember. Crushing the guilt and shame in a tumultuous wave of longing that dashed aside her qualms with a sense of euphoric freedom.

"Then let's allow ourselves this." She murmured as she closed the distance between them, standing on tiptoe to press her mouth to his, the yielding softness of his lips stoking the craving that ached inside her.

He puckered against her, following her lead, allowing her probing tongue to taste him, parting his teeth to allow them to lap and stroke in a fervent choreography that charged lusty shocks to her very centre. She felt him stiffen in arousal against her and her need for him intensified; became unbearable. She broke away, his face registering surprise, then enthrallment as she backed into her bedroom, her gaze never leaving his, enticing him to follow.

Once over the threshold she pulled her pajama top up and away over her head, throwing it to the floor, tugging her bottoms down, treading them off and kicking them so she stood naked as she shook her hair free of her ponytail allowing it to fall to her shoulders in a blond tress.

He stopped in the doorway, a curious mix of trepidation and beguilement and stared open-mouthed. Had she frightened him with her brashness? It came to her suddenly that there were different rules with Sheldon. That, for the first time in her life, her physical appearance did not matter. It was novel and strangely liberating to realize that it was she herself that mattered here.

She beckoned to him, her hand outstretched and he approached slowly as if bewitched, stopping just short of touching her, his breathing measured, hands loose at his sides, a look of uncertainty in his eyes.

She reached for his hand, tracing from his forearm to his little finger and brought it to her right breast, holding his palm against her stiff nipple, her hand over his. The feeling of deja vu made her smile as she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes at the memory of this innocent touch so many years ago.

Eyes wide with apprehension, he whispered. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Here." She answered, and she reached for his other hand, placing it over her hammering, racing heart as she spoke. "Do you feel me?"

Releasing his hand, she stroked his cheek, raising her face to his as he lowered to kiss her again. Bolder now, his tongue teased at her lips and she opened allowing the taste of him to invade her senses, intoxicated as she swam in the sensation. She ran her hands through his hair, tugging as the kiss intensified, crushing her breast against his palm as his other hand moved to cup the other, making her pulsate with need.

Breaking the kiss, she asked. "Can I touch you?" her mouth grazing his as she spoke, inhaling the very essence of him.

She felt his body stiffen in alarm for just a moment before he answered quietly. "Yes."

Running her hands down his neck to rest on each shoulder, she touched him delicately, gently, as if touching a bird. She trailed downward, her fingers tracing arms to elbows, before finally resting her hands over his. Moving backwards to kneel on her bed, never breaking his gaze, she guided him tenderly. He swallowed nervously but followed her lead, mirroring as he kneeled before her on the soft mattress.

Fluttering gentle kisses on his mouth, she placed her hands on his chest, sliding to unfasten the buttons on his pajama top before slipping it off his shoulders where it tumbled onto the bed, then the floor. Pressing her body against him she reveled in the feel of his warm flesh on hers, running butterfly kisses down his neck as she wrapped her arms around him. He bore her embrace stiffly at first but, as she nuzzled his neck, he ceded, arms encircling her, hands kneading the soft flesh of her hips as a gentle sigh left him, and she was lost as she throbbed for him to touch her.

Crushing her mouth against his, she slid her hand round, feeling his flesh twitch as she trailed across the skin of his abdomen, lowering to stoke over his arousal as it strained against his pajama bottoms.

Quick as a flash his hand grabbed her wrist. He broke the kiss, as he panted. "If you do that, I'll ejaculate!"

"Okay." Her breathing staggered as she removed her hand, the palpitations unbearable, forcing her to ask. "Sheldon, will you touch me?"

"I don't know how." He answered and her body screamed in disappointment, only to pulse harder when he asked. "Show me."

She broke from him and lay down on the pillows. Following, he lay on his side to face her, raptly awaiting her instruction. Taking his hand, she slid it down through her sparse, neat hair, gasping as his fingers found the hot wetness. She guided him to move; not with the jabbing that boys are so fond of but with gentle strokes, like girls do themselves. Crushing their entwined hands as she pressed her thighs together and moved against him, the hard nub of her hungry for release as he rubbed in the gentle circles she navigated. Her skin prickled with heat as the pressure rose to a delightful agony, then broke in waves of bliss that caressed her body and she gasped and gripped the quilt with her free hand, twisting in ecstasy as she rode her orgasm out.

She exhaled, lying limp as she quaked in the wake of her climax. With surprise, she found herself unsated, her thirst for him only multiplying, as her greed drove her to straddle him, kneeling above him as he lay on his back watching her with lust misted eyes.

"I want you inside me." She rasped and in response he grappled with the elastic of his pajamas, struggling to release his erection from the banding. She helped him, her need desperate as she tugged them down and off, joining the rest of the clothes on the floor.

Resisting the urge to put him in her mouth on her ascent, she clambered up to rest her pulsing centre on the tip of him, watching the sensation of her soft wetness register on his face as he grasped her hips. She gyrated against him, allowing his tip to tease her most tender spot, feeling the excitement build, travel to the small of her back, then creep up her spine as she leaned over him, hers arms shaking as she supported her weight above his shoulders, their foreheads touching. Gently she lowered, sliding just the head of him inside her to caress the sweet spot where the pleasure pooled, circling and withdrawing so he ran over her hub with each movement, till she felt a quivering weakness build within her and a throbbing that overtook her senses, making her cry out as she shuddered in a gluttonous thrill of gratification that flushed her body and left her gulping for air as she finally slid down on the full length of him.

He responded with a carnal groan, raising his hips to meet her as she slipped down, his fingers digging into her flesh, pulling her onto him as if she could never be close enough. She watched as his face convulsed in an ecstatic grimace and a primal moan tore from him as his body trembled and jolted inside her.

Her arms gave way and she collapsed, the heat of him radiating, making her skin tacky as he slid from her, spent, in a delicious shiver. She tingled with satisfaction as they lay, chests undulating, catching their breath in a sweaty tangle, his arms loose about her, till he suddenly jumped.

"You're dribbling on me!" His voice was so appalled that she burst out laughing.

He rolled away from under her, jumping off the bed, surveying the glutinous slick of goop that glistened in his pubic hair with such a shocked expression that she collapsed in a fit of hysterics.

He darted to the bathroom and she heard the shower patter then become muffled by his body.

Following to sit on the toilet to take care of her own mess, she was unable to shake off the giggles. It felt so good to laugh after the last few days. She tried to poke at the pain, see if it was still there, but couldn't find it. Perhaps she was hysterical in the real meaning of the word. How she'd shaken the shackles of shame and regret, to reach her current level of fatalism confused her.

She mulled it over as she washed her hands at the sink before asking. "Sheldon, is it a psychopath or sociopath that has no remorse, I never know the difference?"

"Both, but I don't think you need worry Penny, I wouldn't say you fit the profile of either. If anything, you're closer to a Histrionic Personality Disorder, specifically the Vivacious Subtype. Have you got a towel?" He poked his head round the shower curtain, then added "Please."

"Seriously! You might not want to start a diagnosis battle here Sheldon. You know, people in glass houses and that! The towel's there." She indicated the rail and he eyed the rather grubby example hanging there skeptically, clear wet marks in the middle where she'd just dried her hands.

"Do you have a clean towel?" He asked succinctly. Calling after her as she took herself to her linen cupboard. "Your point is moot incidentally, you know full well my mother had me tested!"

She waited while he switched the shower off before handing the new towel to him, smiling at his sudden shyness and quiet "thank you" as he took it behind the curtain to wrap around himself. She left him to it, collecting her pajamas from the floor and pulling them on. She placed his on the bed then sat and waited.

Emerging with the towel wrapped round his waist, he pulled his bottoms on first before handing her the towel and picking his top from the bed.

"May I stay here with you?" He asked rather formally while he buttoned it up.

She nodded with a small smile. "Who's taking you to work tomorrow?"

"Howard. He'll be late. He does it to annoy me." He stopped suddenly before conceding. "He might not be now, in the current circumstances." He paused, letting the idea of Howard's pity sink in, before asking. "Can I use the alarm on your phone?"

She picked it up from her bedside table and handed it to him.

"You're not working tomorrow?" He queried, noting her settings.

She shook her head. "Laundry and food shopping tomorrow. Yay!" She answered sardonically, punching the air limply.

He smiled, then took the phone to the right side of the bed, placing it on the cabinet before climbing under the ruffled quilt.

He stared up at her for a moment, whilst she took in the surreal strangeness of the situation; she jumped when he instructed, "You need to lock the door."

She turned, taking his towel to the bathroom, plopping it over the old one on the rail before exiting to slide the deadbolt of her front door and flicking off the lights.

On her return, she rooted around her drawer for her birth pill, the beaker floating an unappetizing layer of dust atop the water now, so she swallowed it down dry before climbing in beside him.

"Where on the whiteboard was this scenario then?" She questioned lightly.

"The right-hand side." He answered seriously as he watched her clamber in. He rolled to face her, lying on his side. "I rubbed it out for good reason you know."

"I know." She faced him, his eyes sorrowful in the moonlight that streamed from her window. Trying to lighten the mood she kidded. "Hey, I do feel bad about not feeling bad, that's got to count in my favor right?"

He smiled. "I suspect your current Devil May Care attitude is a combination of the analgesic sex endomorphins currently whizzing round your limbic system exaggerating your already lackadaisical approach to life, plus lassitude triggered by the stress of these last few days. There's nothing pernicious in your nature Penny." Did he just pay her a compliment or insult her? It sounded like a bit of both but she wasn't sure, so didn't interrupt as he continued.

"You know, it's a rather pragmatic response really. In fact, there's a rather pertinent and apt saying that my MeeMaw..." and he suddenly clammed up at the mention of her name.

She reached over and squeezed his arm gently. "What did MeeMaw say Sheldon?"

He swallowed, a sheen glistening in his eyes. "She used to say, 'It's no use boiling your cabbage twice'." He blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay.

She rubbed up and down his arm. "Well, she was a wise old bird your MeeMaw." She gave him a small smile of encouragement as he nodded agreement.

She changed the subject. "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Date night." He noted her surprised expression and clarified. "Routine Penny, is the path to homeostasis!"

Oh boy! Her old friend homeostasis again!

"Will you come over afterwards?" She questioned.

He considered a moment before replying. "If you want me to, but I do think we need to set parameters in place for…" he paused, looking confused, "for whatever this is!"

"Okay, what do you suggest?" She was slightly disturbed by how much his answer mattered to her. Her heart started a fast pit-a-pat as she waited.

"Well, the differential here is Leonard. So I suggest we 'allow ourselves this'," he accentuated her words from earlier, "until he returns. Then we return to normal. Agreed?"

"Agreed." She nodded, feeling a cold little puddle of sorrow in her belly.

He noted her sad expression. "Hey, don't spoil Saturday night by counting the time till Monday morning!" The pure South drawled out of his vocal chords as he reached up, squeezing her forearm as it rested on him.

"Is that one of MeeMaw's too?" She giggled despite herself.

He nodded, then lay quietly watching her, his eyes drooping with tiredness.

"Thank you for letting me stay Penny." He smiled languidly and then closed his eyes.

"Goodnight Sweetie." She leaned toward him, giving him a peck on his forehead that made him flinch at its unexpectedness, before relaxing into a steady pattern of soft breathing.

She lay awake watching him awhile. Amy was right all along about his beauty. Even with his big blues closed he had a delicate elegance to him as the moon cast shadows on his features. She pushed thoughts of Amy from her mind. Leonard too. She had another week until she had to worry about him.

It was midday when she awoke, the sun high and bright outside her window. She dragged herself out of bed, to the fridge, gagging when she noted her milk had turned to yogurt. She considered raiding 4A, but settled on black coffee and a quick shower instead. She desperately needed to go shopping anyway and it wasn't worth Sheldon's grizzling in the long run.

Practically skipping around the supermarket, she found herself joking with the cashier and, as she carried the bags up the stairs, felt lighter than air. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this carefree, but it was more than that. She realized suddenly that she wasn't bored. She wasn't bored! It was huge.

Ennui. That was the French word Leonard had used to describe her apathetic approach to life. Well, ennui could go fuck itself.

She was a fairytale princess, awakened from her slumber by a kiss. She laughed out loud as she thought of the Sleeping Beauty costume that hung in her wardrobe, how prophetical was that? Her psychic hadn't seen that one coming had she? Relieved there was no one on the landing to witness her laughing like an escaped lunatic, she turned the key in her door.

"Surprise!"

She dropped her groceries, the tins clanging on the floor as she gave a startled scream and whipped round to see her unexpected visitor.

"Leonard!" She gasped as her stomach dropped. She'd never been more disappointed to see someone in her life.


	6. Chapter VI : Hello Kitty

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter VI : Hello Kitty**

"Hey Baby, I missed you!" He opened his arms, waiting for her to rush into them. She stood rooted to the spot, her mouth working but no words coming out for an awkward moment. After a beat, he crossed the space between them by himself and pulled her into a fierce embrace. Had he shrunk? Or was he always this small?

"Leonard! Oh my God!" Was all that she could manage.

He squeezed her tightly. "Oh my, you smell delicious!" He mumbled into her neck as he slid his hands round her waist and pulled her towards him.

"You're back! You're early!" She managed to squeak, gripping his shoulders for support as her legs wobbled.

"Oh, I just missed you so much." He withdrew slightly to look in her face, his elated expression turning quickly to concern. "Hey, I didn't mean to scare you, are you okay?"

"Yes." She covered quickly. "Just a bit surprised. You nearly gave me a heart attack, you bastard!" She punched him lightly on the arm with a jokey laugh that sounded so false she was amazed he bought it.

"I'm sorry Baby, come here." He brought his hands up to her neck and leaned in, landing her a smacker on the mouth, groaning as he did so, like he was eating pudding. She'd forgotten he did that; forgotten how much it fucking annoyed her.

"Oh God, I missed you so much!" he murmured against her mouth.

"Hey mister, what about my shopping?" She pulled back, facetiously indignant in a futile attempt to wriggle free of his hold.

"Fuck that! Come here!" He gasped as he leaned in again, sucking at her mouth like a man drowning, his hands traveling down her back from her head to her buttocks, massaging them, pushing his groin against hers in synch with his darting tongue as he got hot.

She realized, right then and there, that there was no way he was going to be distracted by anything she did. After four months at sea, this was a man on a mission. Either she would have to come clean right now and crush him, or she'd have to take one for the team. She chose the latter, returning his kiss with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

So, for the second time in as many days, she led a man to her bedroom. She didn't have to remove her own clothes this time because Leonard was way ahead of her, tugging her top off and jeans down before scrambling out of his own. She sat on the edge of her bed and wryly compared how much she'd longed for this last week, to the detachment she now felt as she watched him unhook the rather grotty bra she was wearing and nuzzle and suck on her breasts like a man possessed. As he traveled kisses down her abdomen, the princess inside her tucked wearily into the fetal position and fell back to her stupor. He stopped when he reached her panties.

"Wow! I haven't seen these in a while!" He laughed. She realized with heated embarrassment that she was wearing her grungiest, old pair. They'd once been pink but were now a kind of beigey-grey, the print of Hello Kitty on the front, cracked and faint.

"I was going to do the laundry today!" She defended herself, feeling a burning blush prickle her skin.

"Hello Kitty!" He laughed as he placed a kiss on the faded cartoon cat, before tugging her panties down her thighs to her ankles and slipping his tongue where she parted.

She lay back on the bed while he licked and suckled, normally it turned her on to watch him, but she felt numb, like a spectator, somehow outside of her body as she went through the motions. His administrations became more enthusiastic as he became more and more aroused. He would do this until she came, she knew that, but she couldn't respond, it was like she'd had a dental injection in her genitals. She inhaled deeply, alarmed to realize that Sheldon's scent lingered on her pillows, a mix of his breath, hair and skin, and just a hint of talcum powder.

Leonard moaned. "Mm, you taste so good!" He pushed his fingers inside her, desperate for a response.

So, she did what she'd done a thousand times before. She faked it!

"Oh God! Oh God! Yes! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhhh! Yes! Ohhhhhh God!" She thrashed her body on the bed and lied with her hips, rocking them against his face.

Satisfied, he ascended, scaling her and entering in an instant, pressing his mouth against hers as he thrust and grunted. The taste of herself on his lips left her queasy, since when had she got so squeamish? He was mercifully quick, no more than five thrusts and that was all she wrote as he cried out her name in croaky joy.

Smiling in the afterglow, he wrapped her in his arms and snuggled in.

"My God, I'd forgotten just how beautiful you are." He stroked her hair away from her face looking absurdly happy. "How did I get so lucky?"

Bing! And there was the guilt! Back with a vengeance. Reinvigorated! It'd never really left; had just been on a short hiatus.

"Don't be ridiculous, I look awful." She chided. "Why didn't you warn me you were coming home early, I'd have done something special." The realization that if he'd come back any earlier the gig might already be up left her feeling dry-mouthed. She needed to call Sheldon, warn him.

"I could lie and say I came back just for you but, I have to be honest, I came for the funeral too. Sheldon's not himself. When I Skype, he's being really odd!" He confessed.

"Sheldon's always odd!" Her panic started rising, she tried to keep her voice calm, used the false laugh again.

"Seriously, how's he been?" He waited, his expression concerned.

Her mind whizzed, unable to form a sentence, alarmed at being put on the spot. Amy's words, once again, rode in to save the day.

"Closed. Absent. Hard to reach." She repeated solemnly.

He nodded grimly. "I guessed as much. I bet it's been hard on you too honey." He stroked his finger gently on her cheek. "You're a good person to take care of him."

His words broke her. She tried to gulp back the tears but the remorse told hold and raked her body as she gave a sharp sob and shook as he held her.

"Hey, hey, hey!" He rocked her, planting kisses on her forehead. "Come on, I'm back now, you're not alone anymore." He stroked her hair till the tears subsided.

"You're the good person Leonard." She meant it, she really did, and its truth made what she'd done so much worse.

"I try." He gave a cheeky grin and squeezed her tighter, nuzzling her neck.

"You should go see him." She prompted. "He's really missed you, you know."

"I should," he ummed and arred, "but I'd rather stay here with you." He ran his hands down her body to squeeze her buttocks again. With horror, she noticed he was starting to perk up again.

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed, reaching for the dressing gown that hung from the knob on her chest of drawers.

"Come on, earn your white hat, go see him. It'll cheer him up." She urged as she pulled it on.

"Being the good guy sucks." He complained, but he clambered off the bed and scooped up his clothes nevertheless.

She ducked into the bathroom to clean up while he dressed, returning to find him pulling his shoes on, still grinning from ear to ear in a contented post-sex daze.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." He promised, his words prompting a disappointed little swoop in her stomach that accentuated the guilt to a new level.

"Hey, I'll still be here. Take as long as you need, okay?" She ruffled his rather unruly mop of hair, she guessed they didn't have barbers in the North Sea.

"Love you!" He scooped her up and planted a wet one on her lips.

"Love you too." It wasn't a lie. She did love him; just not enough it seemed.

She picked up her phone immediately her front door shut, flicking through her contacts and tapping on Sheldon's work number.

"Yes?" He answered rather abruptly.

"Is that how you answer the phone?" She felt her hackles rise.

"Yes. I just did didn't I?" She could picture his confused face.

"Sheldon, Leonard's back!" There was a stunned silence as he digested the information.

"Have you seen him?" He questioned eventually.

"Yes, he's on his way to see you now." The panicked pitch rose in her voice.

'Does he know?" He sounded rather anxious himself now.

"No, of course not. He's come back for the funeral." She tried to tone it down as she added. "To support you."

There was another long moment of silent consideration before he answered in a sorry voice. "He's a good friend."

"He is." She agreed sadly.

"Thank you Penny." And then his phone clicked off without so much as a goodbye.

She looked at the phone in irritation. She wasn't sure she'd finished talking to him yet. Placing it back, she surveyed the damage to her shopping. She wished she'd taken Leonard up on his offer to help her pick it up before he left now, but she'd been too intent on getting him out the door.

The milk had started to leak and one of the bags of pasta had split. Still, quite literally, there was no use crying over spilt milk, she had plenty else going on to shed tears about. So, she got on with it, pulling her robe tighter as she squatted to repack the scattered goods. There wasn't much to put away, and she noted with disappointment that she was out of alcohol. Of all the times to run out! She'd have to smuggle more wine out of the restaurant tomorrow.

She returned to the bedroom to dress again, grabbing her top, jeans and bra from where they'd landed in her bedroom, then searching about for the Hello Kitty panties, finally locating them under her bed.

They'd rolled into a tube where Leonard had slid them off and, as she straightened them out she remembered her intention of buying new lingerie for Leonard's welcome home. How ironic? What a contrast to these revolting, ancient, embarrassing things, she only kept them for when she was on her period.

And then the world stopped turning.

An icy chill dripped down her spine. Although she didn't have the nine pairs of pristine underpants, neatly ordered on a rotation schedule, that the whack-a-doodle had, there was some small semblance to routine. She kept these, and a few other disgusting pairs for her period. Her decent pairs were scattered about the bedroom, ready for the laundry basket, some actually already in it! These were left. They were left because, right now, she should be on her period! Where was her period?

Fuck!

Where was her period?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

How late was she? One day, two days? What the fuck did it matter, she was late and, just now excluded, had only had sex with one person in the last four months.

But she'd taken her pill, she hadn't forgotten. She knew she'd taken it!

Fuck!

She shouldn't panic. She was always forgetting her pill. How many sticks had she pissed on since she'd been with Leonard? In fact, wasn't the last pregnancy test she bought a twin pack? It was; she was sure it was. Where was it?

She scrambled around in her bathroom cupboard, scattering toiletries onto the floor in her frenzy. There it was! There was one left, she knew it!

She tore it open and tried to concentrate on the instructions. The words swimming as she read and reread them. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart, swallowing down the acrid taste of vomit. She could do this. She could pee on this stupid stick for five seconds; she could do that. She blew out a shuddery breath, then removed the little cap with shaking hands and sat on the toilet, waiting for the flow to start.

The hot urine splashed onto her hand as she counted; one elephant, two elephant, three elephant, four elephant, five elephant, one for luck, six elephants! Then she set it down on the side of the bath.

She tore her eyes away from it as she wiped, then washed her hands. The pack said one to three minutes development time. What could she do for one to three minutes? She could sort her laundry. That needed doing.

She glanced at her clock; three, thiry-six.

She pulled her laundry basket out of the corner, scooped up the clothes that were on the floor and dropped them in.

Three, thirty-seven. Should she look? No, leave it for the whole three minutes; best be sure.

She pulled the quilt back, grabbing each pillow in turn and stripping the pillowcase off each; into the basket they went.

Three, thirty-eight.

She popped the fasteners on her duvet open and pulled the cover off. Tugged off the fitted sheet, carried them both to her laundry basket.

Three, thirty-nine.

Should she wait one more minute? Just for luck. Just to be sure. To be absolutely certain. No room for error. She watched the seconds count by on the clock face.

Three, forty; precisely.

She walked stiffly to the bathroom. The little white stick sat on the edge of the bath looking erroneously insignificant in its small puddle of urine. How could something so small carry a message so portentous? She picked it up with shaking hands, and scoured the digital display with fearful eyes.

There it was, just one word: PREGNANT.

Fuck!


	7. Chapter VII : Occam's Razor

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter VII : Occam's Razor**

She tapped at the door of 4A and waited. Sheldon answered, windcheater fastened and bag slung across shoulder. He met her eye for a second before nodding hello wordlessly and exiting, turning his back to her to lock the door. They made for the stairs together, side by side, looking straight ahead. The tempo of their pattering footfalls the only sound till they reached the second floor.

"Is Leonard still asleep?" He asked casually.

"Yep. The jet lag's caught up with him." She confirmed in the same light tone.

"Boat lag!" He quipped dryly, his mouth tweaking up at the corner a tiny fraction as he stole a quick glance at her.

She shot him a disparaging look and shook her head.

They made the rest of the descent to the lobby in silence. Exiting the building, he followed her lead to her car.

"Didn't this used to be red?" He mocked as they neared. Her car was indeed filthy, coated in a dusty layer.

"You want a lift to work or not?" She didn't turn to look back at him but stopped to read the message scrawled in the grime on her bonnet; 'I wish my wife was this dirty!'

"When you become the butt of random stranger's jokes Penny, perhaps it's time to sit up and take notice." He gave her a condescending nod as he made his way to the passenger side.

She rubbed over the message, cursing as it blackened her hand. Looking through the windscreen she saw Sheldon remove a handy pack of wet wipes from his bag, of course he'd have some, and wave them in her direction.

"Thank you." She removed the worst of it and dropped the used wipe onto the floor, before turning the key in the ignition.

They drove mutely towards the University. The silence becoming oppressive, her ears buzzing as the same question turned over and over in her head. She didn't know when she'd get the opportunity to speak to him again. He was headed to Texas for the funeral tonight with Leonard and Amy in tow, not returning till Saturday night. Sunday was Leonard's welcome home soiree; Raj was going all out arranging that. They wouldn't be alone for some time. She made up her mind and grabbed the opportunity; indicating right, she pulled into a cul-de-sac and parked up.

His head snapped round to look at her in surprise. "Why have we pulled over?"

"Sheldon, what was on the left-hand side of the whiteboard?" She asked her question concisely, leaving no room for misunderstanding, as she met his eye.

"There's really only one option it can be Penny." He shrugged. "Why do you ask? Do you really need me to spell it out?"

"I want to hear you say it, yes." She pushed.

"Why? What purpose would that serve?" He dodged uncomfortably. "Besides, I rubbed it out, remember?"

"You also rubbed out the right-hand side too, but that didn't stop you knocking on my door did it?" She argued.

"No, but as I said, the damage was already done. What's important is how we move forward now Leonard's back. Maintaining the balance within our social group, homeost…." He stopped mid-flow as she interrupted.

"If you say fucking homeostasis again Sheldon I will punch you, understand." She spat. "I asked a simple question. What was on the left-hand side of the whiteboard?"

"Why do you need to know Penny?" His voice rode up to an agitated whine.

"I want to know the options you considered." She pressed. "I want to know why you wrote that one first Sheldon?"

"How do you know I wrote it first? You weren't there." He refuted.

"It was on the left-hand side Sheldon." She insisted.

"Doesn't mean a thing. I might ask why you're so keen to hear me voice the option that would destroy Amy and Leonard? You know full well the only thing it can be. Are you so selfish that you'd put your own needs above three other people?" He was starting to shake with anger, his face reddening as a vein pulsed in his neck.

"Me, selfish? Ha! That's fucking rich coming from the most selfish man in the Universe." She raged. "This doesn't ring true Sheldon. You don't put other people before yourself, all that bullshit about Utilly-ism…."

"Utilitarianism Penny, maximizing the happiness and reducing the suffering for the majority." He couldn't help interjecting, earning himself a death stare.

"Yes, that shit. That's not you!" A thought flashed in her mind suddenly. "What did you mean 'three' other people? Are you the third person Sheldon? Would it be such a fucking disgrace to be with me! Is that what you're saying?"

Angry tears threatened to burst forth and she gripped the steering wheel tightly as she fought to control them. His voice shook as he replied.

"Yes, I'm the third person Penny, but you are wrong in your assumption. I picked the path of least resistance because, rather serendipitously as it happens, it also means I win!" He spoke quietly, cold-voiced, his blue gaze fixed on her as he repeated. "This way I win!"

"You win?" She floundered in confusion. "How? How do you win?"

"This way I get to keep you all." He explained softly, turning away from her to stare out the windscreen.

"But you lose your relationship with me?" She directed her question at his profile as the hurt clawed in her chest.

"Not true. I forgo coitus, that's all." She winced at the word 'coitus' as he reiterated. "I keep you as my friend Penny." His face was still and rational.

"And you keep Leonard and Amy too." She surmised.

"I do." He confirmed. "As do you."

"What if I want more?" She felt a frustrated tear sear her face.

He turned, his face soft with melancholy for just a fraction of a moment before he restrained his emotions.

Adopting a practical tone he asked. "Penny, are you familiar with Occam's Razor?"

"Yeah, 'course I am!" She watched his befuddled expression before adding. "Yes, that was sarcasm Sheldon, what's a stupid razer got to do with anything?"

"Occam's Razor is a principle of parsimony. It states that the hypothesis with the fewest assumptions should always be adopted." He explained.

"What?" She jerked her head in annoyance and incomprehension. "In fucking English please."

"Put simply, the most straightforward plan is more likely the one that will produce the best results." He sighed. "We have been friends for several years now Penny, at great inconvenience to my personal routine and habits, as you know."

He reacted to her look of irritation, but continued unabated.

"So, retaining our relationship in a paradigm that we know already works would most likely result in your remaining as a constant in my life. All other scenarios have unknown properties and therefore carry risk. I cannot take any risk. Your presence in my life is essential to my wellbeing."

"Say that last bit again!" Her heart gave a little jolt.

"What? Your presence in my life is essential to my well being?" He queried.

"Yes! That! Are you saying you love me Sheldon?" Her heart took up a fluttering pitter-patter.

"I'm saying I can't be without you. You are necessary for my equilibrium. If you wish to interoperate that in a hippy-dippy way, that is your prerogative." He checked his watch. "You need to take me to work now, you're making me late."

She got no more out of him before she dropped him at the University steps, pulling away as he headed into the building; next stop the restaurant.

The breakfast shift was always crap for tips; it was amazing how generous alcohol made people. However, the rota had worked in her favor today and she had pressing business to attend to.

She scanned the restaurant for her work colleague, Kara, relieved to see her shock of bright red hair at the till as she scanned her id card. Kara looked up with an acknowledging nod and a tight smile that confirmed she had what she'd asked her for on the phone yesterday afternoon.

She headed to her locker to stash her bag and coat, jumping a little when Kara placed her hand on her back.

"You okay Hon?" Kara rubbed in a motherly way. She was a little older than her, would probably be a good friend but for the fact that if she wasn't working, she was running round after her kids.

She nodded yes as Kara rooted about in her locker, pulling her handbag out. "Coming for a smoke?" she tapped the bag and walked towards the back door and the smoking shelter.

The shelter was empty but for the two of them. Kara dug two packs from her bag, handing the first to her before removing a cigarette from the second and placing it between her lips.

"Thanks Kara." She turned the pack over in her hands as the lighter clicked, a feeling of alarm welling inside of her.

"The instructions are in Spanish?" She yelped.

Kara blew out a lungful of smoke before answering. "The English is inside, but remember these pills are for stomach ulcers, I've written instructions for you to follow on the bottom of the sheet."

"And they work?" Her voice tremored.

"They worked for me." Kara nodded before sucking again on the cigarette.

She pulled the blister pack from the box, indeed 12 of the pills were missing, she looked up with a question on her lips.

Kara pre-empted her. "There's enough there to do the job. Are you far gone?"

She shook her head.

"Good, the sooner you take them, the less you'll bleed." She blew out another long smoke stream before asking. "You got a friend who'll sit with you?"

The realization that she didn't made her feel suddenly bereft. Only Bernie sprang to mind, but it was far too risky to ask her.

"Yes." She lied.

"When's Einstein back?" Kara dragged hard, the cigarette nearly down to its filter now.

"He's already back!" She tucked the packet of pills into her work apron as she continued. "Caught me by surprise yesterday."

"Oh!" Kara's brow knitted in deliberation for a moment. "Doesn't that give you some scope? You could keep it. Pass it off as his."

She shook her head sadly. "It's not that simple. The guy's one of Leonard's friends."

"Not that skinny weirdo is it?" She stubbed the cigarette into the ashtray as she blew out the last of the smoke.

"What?" She jumped with shock and guilt, indignant at her words.

"Sorry Hon! It was a stupid thing to say, I didn't think." Kara apologized as she reached her hand out to touch her arm.

"Why would you even say that anyway?" Her heart was pounding as she flustered her words.

"I dunno. It's just you've got some sorta weird shit going on with him that's all." Kara gave her an apologetic little squeeze.

"Weird shit?" She questioned in confusion.

"Yeah. You know, some freaky chemistry thing going on. It surprised me when you said Leonard was your guy. Mentally I'd already put you with the tall one. I dunno, you just kinda seem to bounce off each other. Listen, I don't know shit! I'm just talking myself into a hole here. Ignore me. It's none of my business. I'm sorry, okay?" She gave her an apologetic smile as she headed back to the restaurant. "Come on, back to the grindstone!"

She ran over Kara's words that evening, sitting on her bed, the pills in front of her with the information sheet folded out, the scrawled instructions prominent at the bottom. The directions were simple enough but still, she couldn't bring herself to follow them.

She thought back to the lies she'd told that evening. Her refusal of Leonard's offer to pay for a flight to Texas for her. How it'd stung when he tried to persuade her, emphasizing how much it'd mean to Sheldon if she came too. How Sheldon would want her there to support him. Then Amy chipping in to agree, both haranguing as she stood her ground. All the while Sheldon sat in his spot, silent as a statue, as she insisted she had to work tomorrow and didn't want Leonard always paying her way. Shortly after they had departed for the airport, Sheldon's text, a simple 'thank you', popped up on her phone, flooding her with relief. At least she'd got something right.

She thought back to her shift at work. How it seemed like every pregnant woman and mother with a young baby had chosen to come in for breakfast today; she'd sure heated a lot of baby food. How many strollers had she spotted on the way home? She'd lost count. All of a sudden, Pasadena was Baby Central.

She thought of the life inside of her. It wasn't difficult to imagine a child of Sheldon's. He was such a child himself. How a man over thirty years old could look and seem so Goddamn innocent always confounded her. She found herself picturing him or her. Blue eyes or green? Blonde or dark?

She popped out four of the pills into the palm of her hand. Innocuous looking little chalky things, could be aspirin.

What had Sheldon called that principle? Something about a razer, beginning with an O?

Occam's Razer. That was it.

Occam's Razor.


	8. Chapter VIII : Sunday Confessional

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter VIII : Sunday Confessional**

She'd lain awake for some time now, an endless, beginingless incalculable length spent staring out the window, blank minded, listening to the bird's chatter. Turning over in bed, the sight of her tidy bedroom served only to further dispirit her. The elves and fairies had been in the night it seemed. Even her clean laundry had been put away. There was some sort of fucked up princess metaphor to be had here; she knew it. Of course, she was Snow White in reverse!

She'd feigned sleep when he'd climbed in with her late Saturday night. Not that she even needed to really. The lie she'd told Friday afternoon took care of any further sexual advances, sending him rushing to the drugstore, blighted with guilt that he was the cause of her affected malady. The energy expelled pretending everything was normal exhausted her, slowed her limbs till she was content just to be still, dumbed, with only the sound of her respiration to remind her that she existed.

Eventually, however, even a paradoxical princess has to stir. She alighted from her bed and escorted her full bladder to sit on the throne.

It was the same story in the living room. Everything tidied, spic-and-span and in its right place and, like all fairytales, no sign of her magic helper to be seen. A wash of relief flooded her, she'd been right to take the pregnancy test and its paraphernalia downstairs to dispose of it carefully in the dumpster. Likewise, she'd hidden the remainder of the pills safely, well away from the apartment.

She guessed Leonard had gone back to 4A to see Sheldon, or help Raj and the girls prep for his welcome home shindig tonight. Recalling a loose agreement she'd made with Raj about helping with the food, she assumed that, as he wasn't breaking her door down, her reputation for bad cooking must've passed into legend.

Opening the fridge she eyed the carton of cranberry juice ruefully. There it sat, the product of another lie told. Still, it would be a worse thing to waste it wouldn't it? She poured herself a glass; she really couldn't stomach coffee today. He'd left the sachets of the powder he'd bought for her feigned cystitis out on the side. So thoughtful of him; so very typical of Leonard. She had already wasted several of them. Mixing them up then throwing them down the sink, leaving the gritty glasses on the work surface to cement her pretense. Much to her mortification, they were all washed up now and put away neatly; he really was taking very good care of her.

Sooner or later she had to show herself. She couldn't summon the enthusiam to shower and dress but made the concession to brush her teeth, at least sparing her friends the sulphuric horror of morning breath, well, nearly midday breath now, before she headed over to 4A.

Amy and Bernadette were hard at work behind the counter when she entered, glancing up to take in her pajamas, but polite enough to let them pass without comment. The smell of the garlic butter Amy was smearing on the sliced French stick churned her stomach as she approached.

"How're you feeling?" Bernie looked up, her sweet voice laced with concern as she ceased chopping the tomatoes in front of her. Sensing her confusion, she added in explanation. "Leonard said you weren't feeling great."

"Oh! No, I feel like crap. Thanks for asking." She leaned up against the other side of the counter, opposite them, watching as Amy resolutely smeared the noxious garlic without looking up, clearly blanking her.

"How was the funeral?" She asked timidly, she was clearly not in her good books for refusing the offer of the Texas flight.

Amy laid the knife down, looked up and met her eye with an aggrieved expression.

"In a word; Hell!" she snorted an angry breath through her nose. "Thank God Leonard was there. I couldn't have coped with Sheldon without him!" She shot her an accusing look as she held her stare for an uncomfortable moment.

Bernie, wriggling with embarrassment interjected. "Sheldon's not come out of his room yet." She shot a worried glance at Amy then looked back with a knitted brow in her direction.

"Is Leonard in there with him?" She deduced, he was certainly nowhere to be seen in the apartment.

Although the question was directed at Bernie, Amy answered. "He was. He's given up. Said there's no getting through to him this morning." She looked at her sanctimoniously as she added. "If you want him, he's gone to wash your car Penny!"

She was aware of Bernie talking, but the meaning of her words were lost in the swooshing rush as the blood drummed in hers ears. She grasped the counter as her legs buckled and a cold sweat beaded her skin. It was Amy who made it to her first.

"Penny, are you okay?" All her hostility was forgotten as she propped her up, her voice cracking with worry.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" She lied with a throaty little laugh, struggling to support her weight as her legs shook.

"You don't look fine!" Bernie fretted from the opposite side.

"I just need to lie down for a bit, that's all." She countered, trying to keep her voice light.

She gave Amy a little squeeze as she chanced her weight and supported herself. Turning, she made her progress carefully to the door.

"I'll come with you!" Amy started to undo her apron as she followed.

"No, no. Seriously, I'll be in enough trouble with Raj for skiving as it is without waylaying his kitchen hands." She gripped the handle of the door and she turned to convince Amy not to follow.

"I'm fine! Honest! I'm going to go back to bed. I call you if I need you. I'm only going to be over there." She watched Amy dither as she turned to get Bernie's opinion on whether or not to follow.

"I'm alright!" She stated resolutely. "I'll see you both tonight, okay?"

Amy and Bernie swapped perturbed glances as she opened the door and exited.

Once in the hallway, she threw herself in the direction of the stairs, hurtling down them two at a time, her heart hammering as if it would burst out of her throat. She twisted her ankle and hit the wall as she neared the lobby, yelping with pain, limping and stumbling as quickly as she could to where she'd parked her car.

It stood spotless, glinting in the sunlight, her passenger door open to the sidewalk. A young couple passing by stared at her incredulously as she stood barefoot in the street wearing just her pajamas, gasping for breath. Leonard was nowhere to be seen.

Approaching slowly she took in the scene. A foamy bucket and sponge stood on the sidewalk near the front wheel. Peering round the door, she noted the plastic shopping bag full of crap from the floor of her car on the passenger seat. Her stomach dropped like a lead weight as she noted the glove box. It hung open, empty but for a bottle of water and a street map. The pills were gone.

So much for that brilliant hiding place! She gripped the door and the roof of the car to stop from collapsing, inhaling a stuttering breath as her head spun.

Where was Leonard?

She slammed the car door and dashed back into the building, rushing up the stairs as fast as her labored breathing allowed. Once in her apartment, she grabbed her phone and car keys, rammed her feet into her pumps then exited again, slamming her door behind her as she retraced her steps to her car. Amy and Bernie's bewildered calls echoed down the stairwell after her, she ignored them.

Once sat behind the wheel however, she found herself at a loss. Where would Leonard go? Her mind raced as she tried to force her thoughts into order. Her hand shook violently as she struggled to get her key in the ignition. She needed to calm down. Needed to think clearly. She managed to turn the key and the engine idled while she compiled a mental list of the most likely places Leonard would head to.

Finally, taking a deep, staggered breath she pulled away, heading towards the park where the boys flew their kites; that was the first stop.

It was getting dark when she finally pulled up outside 2311 N. Los Robles Avenue. Her search had proved fruitless. She checked her phone for the hundredth time, as she made her weary, heavy-hearted ascent to 4B, still nothing, no news! She unlocked and pushed her door open to the early evening gloom of her apartment.

There, on her sofa, his face shadowed by the dusk, sat Leonard.

In front of him, on the coffee table, conspicuous in their little packet, sat the pills.

She closed the door behind her, fighting the urge to run away, and walked towards her armchair. He did not look up as she passed him, sitting with his head bowed, his hands clasped together on his knees, a tick twitching in his cheek as she took her seat.

The silence was deafening. She struggled to find an opener as her mind raced through all the possible explanations that she'd worked through in her head as to why she'd have those pills.

"Do you suffer from ulcers Penny?" His voice was controlled and measured as he finally lifted his head to look at her.

She shook her head. Feeling herself start to quake, not trusting herself to speak.

He stared at her, still faced and red-eyed, his voice breaking as he begged. "Please, please tell me Penny, that you didn't destroy a baby of mine with these!"

He started to shake as the tears fell, the fat droplets darkening his jeans. She shook her head, her own eyes blurring and burning, but he was looking down, didn't see, so she managed to force out a strangled "No. No I didn't!"

He nodded, sniffing as he asked in a shuddery breath. "Why do you have them?"

She'd worked this story through in her head a hundred times today, her brain tick-ticking as she drove around Pasadena, frantically searching for him.

"They belong to someone I work with." She started. This much of the story was true.

He looked up with such relief and hope in his eyes that she suddenly found she couldn't continue.

She couldn't lie and tell him her tale; that she was holding them for this friend; that this friend's husband would go mad if he found out.

That was the story she'd formulated, but she just couldn't do it.

She saw his desperation. Saw that he was prepared to accept anything she had to tell him, no matter how implausible. He'd buy anything right now because he loved her.

A sudden realization struck; he meant too much to her to keep up the deceit. He deserved so much more than this. She couldn't go through with it. He deserved the truth.

"She gave me those pills to end a pregnancy Leonard." The words left her lips in a rush, a feeling of relief permeating her body as she spoke the truth.

He dropped his head into his hands; his fingers curling into his hair as his ribcage undulated and he tried to keep control.

He didn't look up as he asked. "How many have you taken?"

"None." She answered honestly. "I couldn't go through with it."

His head snapped up. His eyes blazing wildly. "You're pregnant now?" It was as much of a statement as a question.

"Yes." She answered simply, fear starting to creep in as he fixed her with a crazed stare.

"Whose is it?" His knuckles whitened as he gripped his knees.

She retreated back into the chair, folding her arms about herself, pulling her knees up as she curled into a ball. She couldn't talk, with the truth now spoken out loud, the magnitude of her situation finally hit home. She was going to be a Mom, and she was absolutely fucking terrified.

"Do I know him Penny?' The anger, hurt and betrayal registered a high pitch in his voice, tugging at her heartstrings, but still she couldn't answer.

"Do you even know him Penny?" His voice dripped venom.

His wounding words scalded her heart, jolted her from her trance, gasping as she met his eye. Focusing her mind, she found her voice.

"That's a low blow Leonard." The disappointment swung heavy in her chest. "I expected better from you."

He looked at her indignant and affronted, and then he started to laugh.

"Oh that's perfect! You expected better from me!" He accentuated the last word before his laugh turned to tears, then broke into wracking sobs as he held his head and his body shook.

She watched in horror as he crumbled in front of her, curling into himself as he cried. She sat frozen in shock, hobbled by guilt, tears stinging.

Finally, he dragged himself from the sofa, over to the door, grappling at the handle, blinded by tears as he leaned his head against it. He inhaled deeply before he turned to deliver his parting shot.

"You expected better from me?" He repeated.

"Well ditto Penny, ditto!' He wrenched the door open, slamming it behind him with such force that the wall shook in his wake.


	9. Chapter IX : Band Aid Etiquette

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, A Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter IX : Band Aid Etiquette**

The slam reverberated through the walls, the apartment quivering as if in sentient sympathy with her. The door to 4A sounded a fraction after hers, the boom an apoplectic echo of Leonard's fury and shattered dreams. Tucking herself in further, she shivered, hugging her knees for comfort as the enormity of her new reality sunk in.

She rocked herself against the chair, the briny tears piquant as they streamed and stung. What was happening over there? She pictured the scene as Leonard crashed through 4A, injured and raging. Did Sheldon know yet? She strained her ears for raised voices, the tension an unbearable burden as she waited for the knocks.

The knocks came, but not those she expected.

Bernie popped her head round the door, eyes apprehensive, tiny voiced and timorous. "Penny, can we come in?"

Amy's dark hair bobbed behind her, anxious to see.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, as her emotions welled in her chest. Her friend's shocked faces softened as they approached. They were dressed to the nines, rather fittingly, in their Sunday best. Oh God! She remembered Leonard's party and the remorse multiplied, manifesting in sharp sobs as they closed in on either side.

"Hey, hey!" Bernie perched on the chair arm and wrapped her arms around her, stroking her hair. "Come on now."

"I'm so sorry!" She melted gratefully into Bernie's compact little body, snuggling against her warmth and comfort.

"I know!" Bernie rocked her soothingly.

"Do you know?" She asked as the shame engulfed her, if it had been physically possible to curl up any further, she would have.

"We got the gist." Bernie met Amy's eye, a worried frown passing between them.

"What's happening over there?" She implored, sniffing and trying to stifle her tears.

"Well, Howie and Raj are with Leonard." Bernie comforted. "Sheldon," she spat his name spitefully, shooting a glare in Amy's direction, "is being Sheldon! Sitting in his spot with his mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish, being about as useful as a one legged man in an arse kicking contest!"

"Sheldon," Amy rebuked in an irritated tone, "is currently in mourning, so I think you can cut him some slack! Recently, you've made your opinion about my relationship brutally clear!" The scorn stirred in her voice as she continued. "As well as, I might add, your propensity for brainy virgins!" Her eyes flashed belligerently with these words, but she softened with. "However, I don't think now is the time or place for this, do you?"

Bernie had drawn herself up, inhaling a sharp intake of breath at Amy's words, but she relented with a sigh, her tense body relaxing back into their hug as she refocused on the problem at hand. She held her tightly, resting her head atop hers, the kindness of the action squeezing out fresh tears.

"Come on. The world's not gonna end." She assured her. "You know what Penny, people fuck up. That's life! Shit happens. You've still got us, okay?"

"Thank you!" She nodded, feeling the weight of Bernie's head move in tandem with hers.

Then she felt it. Amy reached out, wrapping her fingers gently round her hand. It sent a crushing, icy stab to her heart as she turned to face her with tear blurred eyes.

Amy squeezed gently, giving her a tight, comforting smile.

"We'll stick by you Penny, you can be sure of that." She promised. "Everything'll be alright, you'll see."

"Amy." She stammered as she gripped tightly on her hand.

"Amy." She tried again but couldn't find the words.

"Amy, I want to thank you." She finally managed.

"Don't be silly! That's what besties are for!" Amy wrapped her other hand over, cocooning hers.

"Amy." She tried again. "I want you to know just how much your friendship means to me, okay?"

She felt Bernie's body stiffen; felt the meaning register in her. She dared a glance in her direction. Understanding her revelatory words, Bernie's eyes were as round as saucers, her mouth slack, hanging slightly agape. To her relief, she didn't move away or relax her hold, if anything, she crushed her tighter in her arms.

"Hey, you're making me cry now!" Amy gave a wry laugh as she shook her head, her eyes glassy.

"Amy, please. Always know what you mean to me." She pulled her arm from Bernie's waist so they faced each other clasping hands "Just know that, okay!"

"Okay!" Amy agreed, confused but clearly moved, her eyes watering as she choked back her emotion with a nod.

When the knocks sounded, all three started.

It was Bernie who jumped up, answering the door before he'd finished his routine. He looked down at her white faced and stricken. His hand suspended uselessly in the air itching to continue the ritual. The struggle was mapped on his face as he forced his arm stiffly down to his side.

"Yes Sheldon?" Bernie challenged.

"I need to see Penny." He avoided her eye, his voice no more than a subdued whisper.

Amy was up on her feet in no time.

"If you've come to lecture Sheldon, then you can turn straight back round again!" She stood in front of Penny like a bodyguard, her arms crossed boldly and face defiant.

Bernie turned, approaching her friend with sorrowful eyes. "Amy, let Sheldon talk to Penny."

"He can pass on any message from Leonard in front of us." Amy insisted, jutting her chin purposefully.

Somewhere, somehow, she found the courage to speak.

"It's okay Amy. I want to speak to Sheldon." She met his eye, noticed the tremor pulse in his neck as he immediately looked down and away.

Amy turned to face her. "Penny, I'll stay if you want me to." She offered protectively.

She shook her head, chancing an entreating look to Bernie, who put her hand on Amy's arm to steer her towards the door.

"Come on!" Bernie linked her arm through Amy's, tugging gently. "Let them talk."

"Fine!" Amy agreed gruffly. "Sheldon, you be nice to Penny!" She ordered. "Don't be an arse or you'll have me to answer to!"

He stood wordlessly as they passed him in the doorway, she noticed him lock eyes with Amy for just a fraction of a moment, a mournful flicker of loss and regret passing over his features, that changed instantly to one of fear and alarm as he met with Bernie's glare as she guided her through.

Pulling the door to, Bernie gave her one last sad, supportive little smile before disappearing from view. The door clicked shut and they were alone.

He remained downcast and silent for a long while. Finally, he approached the coffee table, stooping to pick up the little packet of pills.

"You didn't take these?" His voice was flat as he eyed them. Was that a rhetorical question? It was hard to tell.

She answered with a simple. "No."

"Good." He responded, still not looking at her, addressing his answer to the corner of the coffee table.

"It's actually a criminal offense to use this medication if you didn't get it from the correct authority you know. You could be prosecuted, I'm talking a serious fine here, or even a prison sentence." His voice rose in pitch as the sentence elongated.

"I didn't take them." She reiterated.

"Good." He repeated, still fixated on the same spot.

"Pills such as these are highly dangerous. You could have made yourself seriously ill. In the case of an ectopic pregnancy, they can even be fatal." His jaw was ticking furiously as he clenched his teeth.

"Good job I didn't take them then!" She wished he would look at her; it was beginning to get irritating.

"I understood you took oral contraception Penny?" Oh, and here came the blame.

"Yes, regularly Sheldon. I haven't missed any!" Her peeved look was wasted on him as he continued to stare at the coffee table.

"Have you had vomiting or diarrhea?" He asked matter of factly.

"Sheldon!" she objected. "That's not approp…. Oh, hang on. Yes, I was sick!"

"There you go." He stated in the same matter of fact voice.

He was silent for a moment. She watched his eyes blink and dart to and fro as he considered his next sentence, but still, he didn't look up.

"Penny, I have no jurisdiction over your body. I do not want to influence your choice in any way. Just know that I will support you in whatever you choose to do." His voice was measured, surprisingly, almost calm.

"Thank you." She stalled for just for a moment before she came right out with it.

"Sheldon, I'm keeping it." Honesty, she decided was the best policy and the strength of her statement finally forced his eyes to hers.

He'd been through the wringer these last few days, and it showed. He swayed slightly as he returned her gaze, his eyes purple lidded and heavy, mouth a sullen pout.

"Okay." Was all he said, giving an affirmative nod. He headed over to sit by her on the sofa, clumsily negotiating his way past the coffee table, his legs a little too long for the space as he sat.

"We'll have to get married." It was a simple statement, almost emotionless as he faced her.

"Err, no! No, we don't!" She shook her head astounded. "Seriously, what the actual fuck Sheldon!"

"Are you planning on telling my mother then that you're planning to raise her grandchild a bastard?" His face suggested there was no question of this ever happening.

"I'm not scared of your mother Sheldon." She announced factually, her expression determined.

He looked at her to suggest that this was indeed a very unwise position to take concerning Mary Cooper.

"Your Mother will just have to lump it Sheldon. Seriously, she can take her antiquated ideas back to the 1950's." Her annoyance was beginning to break through the shame and regret, a tiny twist of mischievousness crept up on her, unexpected and inappropriate as she added. "Along with your stupid haircut!"

His eyes widened, affronted as he opened his mouth to speak. Not giving him the chance, she interjected

"This baby doesn't have to change anything Sheldon. We can continue as we are."

She offered him the get out clause, uncertain whether she wanted him to take it or not.

"Penny, it changes everything. Don't you see? The baby tips the balance." He looked irritated as he looked in the direction of the apartment. "Darn it, I need my whiteboard."

"And what happened to all that shit about risk Sheldon? Now all of a sudden you can take a risk?" The conversation in the car rankled as she recalled his words.

"Yes." He confirmed. "The baby supersedes it all. Sadly for Leonard and Amy it negates their future happiness and puts my own needs forefront. The baby makes the risk unavoidable, irresistible even." He took a deep breath and quoted.

"If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties." He recanted.

"What?" She double-took, and he began again.

"If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but…" he started but she stymied him as she interrupted.

"That's not MeeMaw's?" She guessed.

"No, it's Francis Bacon." He confirmed.

"The painter guy said that?" She asked surprised.

"What?" He shot her a quizzical look.

"Francis Bacon, he painted freaky stuff, you know, like Picasso." She added.

"Penny, Francis Bacon is the English Renaissance Philosopher commonly lauded as the father of modern science!" He exasperated.

"No, he painted weird shit, I'm telling you!" She scrabbled around to find her tablet. "Look, I'll show you!"

The place was too tidy to find a fucking thing, where had Leonard put it?

Avoidance was needed!

This was all going too fast. She couldn't think straight. Her body tremored; her heart palpitating as her throat closed up in panic. At this rate she was going to say something stupid and end up married to this fucking lunatic! She needed time! It was too fast. Where was that fucking tablet?

Avoidance was essential!

"Penny, stop! This is not important!" He reached out to still her as she leaned forward, frantic in her search, his hand resting on her arm. She felt the current from him on her skin, an electric fizz that shivered through her body. He was very close.

She closed her eyes. Savoring the feel of his skin on hers. His breath blew warm on her cheek. All she need do is turn, and her lips would find his.

His touch kindled her cheek, turning her towards his mouth, his lips brushing lightly on hers.

An energy bubbled inside of her, bottling up, ready to burst. She whimpered, smashing her mouth on his, an embrace of frustration and passion that he returned, crushing her in his arms, pulling her into his embrace as she toppled back on the sofa with him.

And there it was. That ridiculous, weird shit, freaky chemistry; clouding her brain, till nothing existed but this kiss as her body transformed into a swirling mass of want and longing.

She broke away, and rested against him, rising and falling on his chest, their breathing synchronous and smooth.

"Penny?" She felt his words resonate through her body.

"Mm?" She kept her eyes closed.

"You stink!" He stated, his voice deadpan.

She pulled back to look at him, his face was deadly serious.

"When did you last shower?" His nose wrinkled in distaste.

He had such a prissy face on that she burst out laughing; and it felt good, so good.

She fell back off him and lay against the sofa armrest unable to stop herself as she convulsed in giggles, tears of a different nature threatening to burst forth.

His own face started to twitch as he watched her. A lopsided grin escaped even as he bit his lip to keep control.

She reached forward, twisting her hand into his, shaking her head as she calmed down.

"You're such an arsehole Sheldon Cooper, but I love you!" She froze. She hadn't meant the last bit to slip out. The last bit was a secret.

She looked at him in horror as her words impressed on him. He blinked and stared at her blankly before he cleared his throat.

"Band Aids?" He said, almost to himself.

"What?" She was so not seeing where this was going.

"Band Aids. What's your opinion on them?" He queried.

"Obviously, I don't feel quite so strongly about them as you do Sheldon, what's your point?" He had her totally lost.

"Band Aids. Do you rip them off, or peel them off Penny?" He posed.

She pondered for the briefest of moments.

"Rip 'em off." She answered honestly.

He nodded, his face resolute.

"As I thought." He answered,

He let go of her hand and unfolded himself from the sofa, straightening his t-shirt; it had got rather crumpled in their clinch.

He walked to her front door and waited, his hand outstretched to her.

"Shall we do this?" His eyebrows arched quizzically as he posed the question, a slight tremble evident under the calm exterior he was presenting.

Standing on shaky legs, she made the journey towards his outstretched hand. Entwining her fingers betwixt his and squeezing hard.

She nodded as they locked eyes; electric currents carry telepathic messages, no words were required.

He pulled the door handle towards them, and together, hand in hand, they stepped into the abyss.


	10. Chapter X : The Hofstadter Perspective

**The Physical Science of Chemical Bonding, a Shenny Fanfic**

**Chapter X : The Hofstadter Perspective**

"But Dad, I want this one!" Isaac implored, his wide brown eyes switching on.

Leonard knew better than to be drawn in.

"How much does it cost Isaac?" He was the voice of calm and reason.

"$550." Isaac sighed in disappointment.

"And how much money do you have?" He rationalized.

"$500." The letdown in his son's voice weakened him but he remained resolute.

"So choose another train, there's plenty here." He reached for a green locomotive above Isaac's head height. "Look, this one is $350, you could get this and another signal box."

Isaac shrugged. "But I want this one Dad, please. Please!" He tugged on his sleeve, his eyes hypnotic pools. "It's only $50!"

And he was suckered. Drawn in like Odysseus to the siren call of his son's pleading eyes. He rooted around in his pocket, drawing out his wallet and extracting a $50 note.

"Do not tell your Mother!" He ordered as he handed it over to the squealing child.

"Thanks Dad! You're the best!" Isaac grabbed the box from the shelf gleefully and rushed to the tills at the front of the train shop before he could change his mind.

He followed, unable to restrain his grin as his son, bouncing with exuberance, joined the short queue. He'd be in trouble if Isaac blabbed but, hey, what the hell was $50 nowadays? He remembered when $50 was actually worth something; it didn't seem like so long ago.

He walked to the front of the store, hands in pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels as he looked out the steamy window onto the street. The rain shower had passed, the dusty motes leaving their fresh rain scent as the sidewalk began to bustle again. New York was never still. It was fun to visit but he'd be glad to get home, he checked his watch, they had plenty of time before dinner was ready. He was glad Isaac had talked him out of driving, the train was quicker and he was on a promise tonight; there was a brisket pot roast waiting for him in New Jersey with his name on it. A voice cut suddenly through his thoughts.

"I appreciate that these are sold as a set, but surely, as an independent proprietor, you have the authority to split them. As I have explained, I require only the carriages, the locomotive is surplus to requirement." It was an unmistakable voice, even though he'd not heard it for over 20 years.

He watched as the tall, thin man argued with the shop's owner. Mid-fifties, bald but for a closely cropped horseshoe of salt and pepper hair, he felt a little smug as he compared his own still unruly mop. However, apart from the hair, he looked much the same, he found himself instinctively sucking in his stomach as he watched the debate conclude.

Scanning his chip card and pressing his thumb on the payment screen, he took the bagged train set without a word of thanks, heading towards the door and Leonard, not looking up as he rubbed Purrell into his hands.

"Sheldon?" His voice stopped him in his tracks.

Recognition replaced by sheer horror flashed across his face as he looked up. Not surprising really, the last time he was face to face with him there were three people holding him back from wringing his neck, which sounded impressive until you considered that one of them was a girl less than 5ft tall.

"Leonard!" His voice was surprised and wary, he struggled to meet his eye.

The silence stretched on an uncomfortable length. He remembered all the things he'd imagined saying to this man over the past two decades, none of them seemed relevant now.

"You look well." He broke the silence with banal, polite banter, like you're supposed to.

Sheldon shrugged. "Do I? Like all aging human males I find myself susceptible to middle aged spread and pattern baldness." He did indeed carry a small potbelly; he'd not noticed it till now. "I'm surprised you've succumbed to obesity Leonard, these things are usually hereditary."

So much for sucking it in, he felt a little tug on his sleeve and followed Sheldon's eyes to his son who was scowling at this stranger's rudeness.

"Isaac," he addressed him, "this is Dr Sheldon Cooper, he was a friend of mine and your Mother's way back."

Isaac eyed the stranger suspiciously, the scowl not softening one iota as Sheldon observed him.

"You look like your Mother." Sheldon determined, addressing him directly.

"You look like an insect!" Isaac announced factually, his face a stubborn pout.

"Isaac!" He grabbed his arm in embarrassment. "That was extremely rude! Apologize! Right now!"

Isaac frowned obstinately, his eyes flashing angrily as he remained button-lipped.

Sheldon shrugged off the insult lightly.

"It wasn't meant as an insult young man. Your Mother's a remarkable woman." He explained.

Isaac shrugged but still didn't apologize to the man who'd called his Dad fat. He hid himself behind him, away from the stranger's intrusive gaze, his little finger's curling through his belt loops.

Now was as good a time as any, he addressed the elephant in the room.

"How's Penny?" The words slipped out with surprising ease. "Is she happy?"

Sheldon remained impassive as he answered. "Sometimes."

His expression changed, he clearly considered this a strange question to ask as he expanded. "Penny remains a constant. She is as she ever was." His bemusement changed to a smile as he continued. "However, right now this minute, I can guarantee you she's happy. She's shoe shopping with Connie so will be in Seventh Heaven."

Connie. The baby elephant in the room.

"Connie. That's a pretty name. Your MeeMaw's name wasn't it?" He asked keeping his voice level, may as well clear the herd all at once.

"It was Constance, yes!" Sheldon met his eyes for a fraction of a moment, gauging his reaction before he continued. "It seemed fitting."

There was another rather awkward silence as he nodded, racking his brain for a subject, he settled on.

"I did hear that your little girl was studying in New York. Hard school to get into, you must be very proud." Indeed, Bernadette was, as ever, an invaluable source of information.

Sheldon shrugged again. "Right now she's on a break from her MA." He drew his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen, before tilting it in his direction. 'Sadly, there's no doctorate in theatre studies, so this is her last year."

The photo showed Connie's BA graduation. How a girl with Sheldon's features could be so beautiful stumped him temporarily, till he remembered Missy. Her smile though was pure Penny, through and through.

"She's beautiful Sheldon, you must be very proud." He repeated.

"Why should Connie's beauty make me proud Leonard?" He questioned. "And her accomplishment is her own, not mine."

The words could have been Beverley's. He sounded so much like his mother that his heart ached for the girl. He knew full well how it felt to be raised by a parent like that.

"All Connie needs do is exist Leonard." Sheldon stated in clear tones as if explaining to a simpleton.

"She simply needs to exist to make me proud. How I feel about Connie is unconditional!" He shot him look of pure confusion at how he could not get that.

And in that look of confusion he saw it. The transference. Connie had inherited more than just MeeMaw's name; she had his utter devotion. Pleased to be mistaken, he saw replicated in that look of confusion, the same zeal that he felt for Isaac, whose hot little head was right now pressing into his back.

"I get that Sheldon!" He reached round to gently squeeze Isaac's shoulder in an attempt to coax him out as he asked.

"How's your son doing, I heard he got accepted at Yale?" He stopped himself before he added the 'proud' line a third time.

Sheldon rolled his eyes. "Wyatt is taking a year out traveling before he continues his studies. Frankly, if he stopped chasing women and knuckled down, he'd already have his Doctorate, he's more than capable." He could tell he wanted to add 'like me' but was showing great restraint. "Still, what do I know, I'm just an old man? You've got all this to come Leonard." He sighed with resignation as he conceded. "I guess I should make some allowances for Penny's genes in his mix."

And again, Penny's name hung awkwardly in the air.

And once again, trivial patter broke the atmosphere as he asked.

"Sheldon, do you want to grab a coffee?" He was met with a derisive head tilt and corrected himself. "Sorry, tea?"

Sheldon checked his watch, shaking his head. "I would if I could..." He began

"But you can't, so you shan't." Leonard finished with a smile.

Sheldon's mouth curled at the familiarity, before explaining. "I'm being picked up by Penny and Connie on Sixth in a quarter of an hour."

He nodded, turned to leave, before suddenly turning 180°. Facing them he dug inside his carrier bag, tearing open the outer box of the train set he'd bought. The plastic crackled as he manipulated the packaging, finally drawing a red locomotive out.

"Here." He held the train to Isaac, who approached slowly. "I only need the carriages." He explained.

Isaac gingerly reached out as he placed the train in his hand.

"Thank you Sir." He clasped it to his chest his eyes shining.

"You're welcome young man." He nodded to Isaac before meeting Leonard's eye.

"It was good to see you Leonard." He sounded sincere.

Then he turned, pulled the shop door towards him, took a step and was gone.

Before he could think, he had grabbed Isaac's hand and was following. Thanks to his height, Sheldon's baldpate bobbing ahead was visible amongst the crowds on the sidewalk. Isaac's feet pattered beside him, having to half run to keep pace as he looked up at him questioningly.

Sheldon walked the same. But then why should he walk any differently? It was a ridiculous thing to wonder at. Why was he even following?

He knew the answer; he had to see her.

The image of the last time he saw her face was imbedded in his brain. Fragments of that Sunday evening had played regularly through his mind these last twenty-odd years. His memory slowly relaying the events in his head like the decrepit home movies his own father made when he was a boy. He could picture it so clearly.

How they had entered hand in hand and made their announcement. He felt the devastation anew, a pang of despair in his chest that filtered to chill his bones.

"The baby is mine!" Four small, simple words that had ripped his and Amy's world apart.

How Sheldon had turned to him, then Amy, saying simply. "I'm sorry." Just about the only time he'd ever heard Sheldon apologize sincerely.

Then came the red mist.

If he'd got his hands on him that day, he'd have faced a stretch in prison. In fact, he'd just be getting out about now, how's that for coincidence? Raj, Howard and Bernadette were stronger than they looked as he railed against them to get to him.

Then her face. Penny's face as she stepped in front of Sheldon to protect him. To protect him like the coward he knew him to be. Except, he didn't step back. No, he pulled her back towards him, their joined arms momentarily taut, before wrapping his other arm across her torso to shield her from his fury, and as he did so, he leaned against the door handle and ushered her back out. Daring to turn his back to him as he exited after her.

He struggled impotently against his guards till the fight left him and the wretchedness took hold. His despondent howl was interrupted only by the double slam of the door as Amy excited the apartment, followed closely by Bernadette.

He remembered now the quiet dignity of Amy's actions. She sat wordless and blank in the middle of the couch before rising to exit in a calm, fluid movement. Bernadette broke from him and the boys to follow hot on her heels, calling her name as she rushed down the stairs after her.

That night, as he lay sleepless in bed, he was disturbed by a key turning in the lock. His body clenched rigid as his mind whirred with the possibilities for whom it could be. Then Amy entered his room, and the wrath subsided.

She stood over him in the moonlight. Silent and still, she offered no words of explanation for her presence there.

When she began to remove her clothes, he sat up to stop her, but there was something in her gaze that held his tongue. Once naked, she climbed into bed with him and together they fucked their pain away.

In the morning, she helped him move his stuff to Raj's. They spoke no more than necessary. What words were there to be spoken?

His resignation from the University coincided with the announcement that Sheldon had been awarded Tenure. Well of course he had, when was anything that happened ever about anyone else but Sheldon Fucking Cooper? It was taken as sour grapes on his part, and he was happy not to correct them. Rather they think that than know the truth. Besides, he was big news after his North Sea Expedition. He wasn't short of offers. One such offer took him to England and the new group of friends that he still maintained to this day. He tried several times to sever his links to Pasadena, but it proved to be easier said than done.

For one thing, Raj's pursuit of, and eventual marriage to Amy needed to be run past him, every single fucking detail of it, it seemed, till it drove him to distraction. It didn't surprise him when she filed for divorce; the coldness of Sheldon and the neediness of Raj was too wide a chasm to gap as Amy went from famine to feast. Raj took the split very badly; his parents however, were jubilant, they bought him a Lamborghini!

The Woolowitz's played Devil's Advocate throughout, at Bernadette's insistence mostly. In their defense, their own children were close in age, but it still irked him that they'd socialize with two people as morally bankrupt as Sheldon and Penny. He did have to admit though, it was good for gossip, and grudgingly there was some small part of him that wasn't quite ready to let them go completely. They'd been a huge part of his life. He'd loved them both.

The news that Penny had finally agreed to marry Sheldon shortly before their second child was born, a son they named Wyatt after Penny's Dad, provoked a confusing set of emotions in him. On the one hand, he was glad that all the pain and disruption hadn't been for nothing, but on the other, he was angry, why the fuck did they deserve to be happy?

Then Howard shared the news that they'd married in Vegas. Oh Boy, It actually would have been worth Penny agreeing to marry Sheldon just to see him in a Vegas wedding chapel. The news was made even more perfect by the fact that Penny had to annul a similar wedding to that dumbass Zack beforehand, apparently she'd not realized it was legal when it had taken place. It was the cherry on top, and he'd have paid good money to see Sheldon's face when she told him. He'd have paid even more to see him actually in the chapel. You had to give it to Penny; she could push Sheldon's buttons like no one else.

He got his wish without money changing hands. Under duress, Howard eventually shared two pictures from Bernadette. Sheldon, surrounded by pink kitsch and frivolity, looked just as ridiculous and out of place as he imagined he would. His smart grey suit clashed horribly with Penny's rainbow maternity sundress, which matched their little girl's pretty outfit. He deliberated, then forwarded it to Amy, unsure whether she'd find the humor in it or not.

He'd chosen not to share the second picture. He wondered who had taken it; one of their witnesses he guessed? Connie was clearly the subject matter, sat on her Daddy's knee, she was the only one facing the camera, pretty as a picture, her smile as bright as the ribbons in her hair. Neither Sheldon or Penny looked the photographer's way, nor at each other. They sat on cheap plastic chairs, presumably waiting their turn. Penny had slipped her sandals off, the indentations of the straps clear on her swollen feet, her left hand resting atop her enormous round belly, her belly-button, an innie made outie by the infant inside, protruding against the fabric. She looked so devastatingly beautiful that she took his breath for moment. But it was her right hand that demanded his attention. It sat limply on her thigh, palm up, joined to Sheldon's hand by their entwined index fingers. The simple gesture spoke volumes. He suddenly felt like a voyeur, encroaching on their moment. The emotion caught in his throat, making his eyes itch.

He'd jumped as his inbox pinged and popped up obscuring the picture.

Message from Amy Farrah Fowler : OMG! That's priceless. You've got to hand it to Penny eh? LOL

And so began his correspondence with Dr Amy Farrah Fowler. Sporadic at first, maybe once a month at most, it grew to weekly, then daily, to several times a day. He hated to admit it, but Sheldon had been right about her; she was truly fascinating. Brilliant, sharp witted and dry humored; he wondered how he'd missed that? He'd been dazzled by blonde perfection hadn't he? That's how.

It was an easy flight to Germany where she was working. If she was feeling particularly sentimental when he visited, she would let him spend the night with her. The first time he proposed marriage, she had laughed and dismissed him without a bat of her eye.

Having spent his younger years begging women to marry him, the tradition stretched into middle age. He pursued her for years, slowly chipping away her indifference.

When she returned home to live and care for her Mother, he crossed the Atlantic after her. Till, finally, on her 40th birthday, she caved. They married at City Hall a week later, and started trying for a family immediately, their age against them as her body clock ran into its final countdown.

Five years, and two rounds of IVF later, they gave up. Accepting a childfree life as their lot, thankful for each other, they relaxed into a routine that was as reassuring as it was unremarkable.

However, in one of the bittersweet twists that life throws your way, once they'd stop trying, she discovered she was pregnant. The news came shortly before her Mother's illness became terminal. Isaac never got to meet his Maternal Grandmother; fate dealt her a cruel blow. As for Isaac's other Granny, well, that was the one downside to his marriage. Beverley, it seemed, had found her soul mate in his wife. There was no pretence whatsoever that her regular visits were anything to do with him, although she did make a show for Isaac's sake; he had to give the old girl that. He felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Isn't that your friend there Dad?" Isaac enquired, tugging his arm.

Sheldon had stopped by the kerb. Standing in front of the bright red gingham clothed tables of the deli behind him, he checked his watch, and waited. Staring into the slow moving traffic, scanning the cars for a minute or two, till his arm shot up to wave in recognition. Leonard felt his heart race in anticipation as he followed his gaze, oblivious to Isaac's words beside him.

Penny pulled over, a hire car, obvious by the number plate, tucking it in without parking, and provoking a range of car horns and expletive filled yells from the drivers behind. She was brave to drive in New York; the place was a madhouse.

Ignoring his son's tugs on his arm, he stared through the windscreen at her. She was plump, he hadn't expected that, but then, he had seen pictures of her mother, it shouldn't be that much of a surprise. Her hair, still the same blonde, was cut short, as was the fashion nowadays, and fitting for a woman her age he supposed. She wore it well; her beauty endured.

Sheldon braved the traffic, yanking the passenger door open and scuttling inside, reaching immediately for the seatbelt.

If this was a movie, there'd be some sort of physical sign, a public display of affection perhaps, some definitive indicator of the status of their marriage. They'd lean in to kiss hello, eyes communicating how deep their love was. But this was not a movie and so, as he settled, Sheldon turned to make a comment to Connie in the back seat. A comment that had Penny rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath, which he responded to with a derisive head-shake as he turned to face forward and fasten his seatbelt. He watched their mouths, looking for the shape of his name on their lips. It was absent; he was clearly not a conversation priority.

Sheldon's words came back to him. "Penny remains a constant. She is as she ever was." And he suddenly got it. He saw the truth in them. This wasn't a movie; this was life. All he needed to know was in front of him, had indeed just been played out in the short interaction he'd witnessed. Sheldon and Penny remained the same. Just the same. Nothing had changed. They were constant. Unchanged.

He froze as Penny's eyes turned in his direction, had he been caught spying? But she only looked in her rear view mirror, her car indicator flickering as she cut back into the slow moving traffic, earning more indignant shouts from the New York drivers as she pulled away.

As the car passed he watched Connie in the back seat. Her photo really didn't do her justice; she was truly exquisite. She looked straight through him, as beautiful women had done all his life, but Isaac caught her eye. Smiling Penny's smile at his son, her blue eyes danced, as Isaac's head traveled with the moving car till she was out of sight, lifting his hand to wave in an unconscious motion to this beautiful creature who'd noticed him, almost dropping his little train in distraction.

Now it's his turn to tug on Isaac's hand, breaking his trance. Together they head towards the subway, Isaac still clutching the red locomotive in his fist, the bag from the train shop jostling merrily in time with their footsteps. They'd be home soon. Leonard's mouth waters, he can almost taste that pot roast.

…...

Authors Note:

Thanks to all of you reviewers for your input. You made these dismal, cold months pass with merciful speed. This is my second fanfic, but my first Shenny one (I doubt it'll be my last).

If you're not adverse to Shamy, my first ever fic is called The Correlation Coefficient Experiment and is written under the moniker AThingOfBeauty.

Well done for making it to the end! Like all budding writers I seek to improve. I'd love to hear what you think worked, what you think didn't, or just simply, what you think?

Once again, thank you, I salute you all!


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